


Knight and Squire 1: Leather and Iron

by purple_bookcover



Series: Knight and Squire [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Canon and Post-Canon, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Poly, in the closet, no like literally in a closet, unrequited Sylvix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-10-24 19:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: * This is primarily and mostly an Ashelix fic. Other ships are tagged because they ARE relevant to the plot. *All Ashe wants is to be a knight. Too bad there's a sexy swordsman intent on distracting him again and again...and again...How's an aspiring knight supposed to train when tall, dark and thigh highs storms in and demands his full and undivided attention? Especially when Felix seems ashamed and regretful after every tryst, even as he keeps coming back for more. If only Ashe could get him to explain why they can't be together...Knight and Squire 2Knight and Squire 3





	1. The Swordsman's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe is innocently trying to train when Felix storms in and demands a... favor. Goddess help him, but Ashe just can't say no with Felix looking at him like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real fic...ever. I am so nervous XD 
> 
> I want to keep going with this and see where the story takes them. I have ideas for some more chapters and an ending. So if you enjoy let me know so I can justify continuing to spend my time this way haha

Byleth adjusted his hand on the bow. Just a slight shift, but Ashe felt the balance of the weapon improve. 

"Good work," Byleth said. "Try some shots like that." 

Ashe freed an arrow from his quiver and concentrated on the straw target at the far end of the training room while Byleth moved on to their other students.

Ashe heard Ingrid and Dimitri pause their sparring to greet the professor. Both nobles were proper and prim as ever. Even the strong, confident tones of their voices made Ashe nervous and he missed the center of his target when he loosed his arrow. 

He sighed and lowered his bow. He'd never be on the same level as the others. What was he even doing trying? Part of him quivered with the fear that some day they'd all leave him behind and set off on their grand, heroic destinies. And what would he be then? Just a failed squire, not even a knight. 

"Poor shot."

The icy tone made Ashe startle. He turned to find Felix scowling at him, hands planted on his slim hips. 

Ashe went cold. This training session was going from bad to disastrous. 

"Felix, is there some reason you're interrupting your classmates' training?" Byleth said. 

Felix smirked. "It's been five years since you've been our professor," he said. "You have no authority over me." 

Bylth grimaced. "I'm asking as your comrade in arms. I assume you'd rather not see us all routed on the battlefield." 

Felix just shrugged. 

"Don't bother, Professor," Dimitri chimed in. "He hasn't changed in the past five years."

"I could say the same of you, Boar," Felix shot back.

"Enough," Byleth said. "Some of us have training to do. Do you have some purpose here?"

"Actually," Felix said, "I was looking for him." He nodded at Ashe and the smaller man felt all the blood drain from his face. He saw Felix's eyebrow twitch up at the corner. Ashe had to swallow around the lump in his throat. _Again? Now?_ What was he thinking? Yet even as his blood went cold he felt something stir deep in his chest. 

"You gave me your word, Ashe," Felix said. 

Ashe shook himself, but the memory came anyway. His own voice, breathy and whining, begging. Promising. Felix's hands on him, in him. So sure and skillful.

"Ashe, are you well?" Byleth said. 

"Yes, yes." He blinked away the stray thoughts. "Excuse me, Professor. Felix is right. I gave my word I'd help him with something this afternoon. I'm sorry. I must have forgotten." 

A smirk flickered across Felix's thin lips, then he turned and left the training room. Ashe began to follow. He heard Ingrid sigh behind him. "He's almost too chivalrous for his own good. People like Felix will always take advantage of it." 

Oh, but if she only knew.

#

Ashe hardly got ten steps from the training hall before Felix grabbed the front of his tunic and shoved him against a brick wall. He didn't have time to feel stunned before Felix's mouth covered his, hungry, greedy, and oh so sweet. 

Ashe heard himself whimper as Felix pulled away. "Playing at reluctance?" His smile was wicked as he traced a long finger down Ashe's flushed cheeks. 

Goddess help him, but everything about the slender swordsman made him feel intoxicated. Felix's dark eyes bore into him and heat rippled through Ashe's entire body. Only Felix's grasp on his tunic kept him standing. 

Felix turned serious. "Not here." 

Then he pulled Ashe along, so quick the smaller man nearly tripped trying to keep up. Felix ducked through the first door that yielded to his pounding. Ashe found himself in a dark, musty storage closet. They were so close to the training room that he could still hear Dimitri and Ingrid sparring on the other side of the stone. 

Brooms and rakes clattered as Ashe's back hit the stone. Felix pressed up against him, urgent. Ashe gripped at the front of Felix's shirt as the taller man pinned him with a hard kiss. He moved to Ashe's ear, then trickled down his neck. Felix's hands worked at the leather strap across Ashe's chest even as he kissed his neck and collar. 

The soft armor and attached quiver fell to the floor and soon Felix was at the buttons of his jacket, exposing Ashe's chest to the cold inside the dank closet. 

Felix's calloused hands moved over his chest and down his back. Ashe grabbed at Felix's ponytail, forcing the other man's lips back up to his own. He pulled a little harder than intended and Felix let out a soft moan. 

"I-I'm sorry." Ashe could hardly catch his breath to apologize. 

But Felix's eyes gleamed with something wholly different than anger. "I didn't tell you to stop." 

Before Ashe could do more than blink, Felix spun him around. This time, when Felix pressed against him, Ashe felt the other man's hardness grinding into him. Even though the leather of his pants, the sensation made him quiver. Felix reached one hand around Ashe's chest to hold their bodies close. The other hand groped at the laces of Ashe's pants. Felix's deft fingers loosened the laces and slipped inside. 

Ashe yelped as Felix grasped his cock and began stroking it in smooth, quick motions. Even in this, he moved with the grace and precision of an expert swordsman. Ashe could do little more than press his forehead to the cool stone and whimper from pleasure. 

"You mean to let them hear us," Felix hissed. 

Ashe's eyes went wide. He put a hand over his own mouth, trying to quiet his cries. But goddess have mercy, who could be silent with Felix's long, confident, graceful hands manipulating them like a toy? 

Felix withdrew and Ashe panted against the wall. But the reprieve was short lived. Ashe felt Felix's hands at his waistband, easing his pants and undergarments lower. He quivered in anticipation. 

"Don't worry," Felix said. "I have something."

Ashe dared glance over his shoulder and saw Felix rubbing some sort of paste on his hands. 

Felix's slick fingers ran down Ashe's spine, tickling the small of his back. Then Ashe gasped as they entered him, one finger at first, then two. Felix moved slowly, allowing Ashe to adjust to the sensation. Only when Ashe's breaths turned to gasps did he speed up. 

A warm sensation built up inside Ashe, threatening to overflow. If only Felix would tip him over the edge, release him at last. But the swordsman seemed to enjoy playing with him, making him wait in agonizing anticipation.

Felix's free hand snuck around to Ashe's cock. "Not yet," Felix said at his ear. His breath was hot. His tongue flicked out to tease Ashe's ear. 

Felix's fingers exited, leaving Ashe aching. 

"Please," he moaned. 

"Greedy," Felix said in a voice like molten silver. 

Then Ashe felt Felix enter him, slow and controlled. He let out an enraptured gasp, arching his back. 

Felix held still at first, running a hand down the curve of Ashe's back. Then he gripped the other man's hips as he began to move his own. 

Ashe's mind went blank. With each careful thrust, pleasure bloomed within him, building in bursts. He clawed at the stone before him, unable to contain his whines and moans. 

One of Felix's hands intertwined with his own as Felix leaned over him farther. Felix started to increase his pace, pushing harder with each thrust. Soon, even the coolly composed swordsman was moaning, cursing the goddess in soft susurrations. 

Felix's grip on Ashe's hip grew desperate. He tugged on Ashe with each thrust as Ashe arched his back and pushed into him. Each hit brought a fresh spike of pleasure, a new high Ashe had never believed he could achieve. Every time he thought he could take no more, Felix pushed him past the edge. He heard himself nearly shouting with lust. 

"Yes, yes, please, oh goddess, please," Ashe cried. 

"I can't hold much longer," Felix rasped. 

"Yes," Ashe moaned. 

An instant later he felt Felix's entire body shudder against him and Ashe tipped over the edge, his mind and body an explosion of ecstasy. He scrabbled against the stone as his shaking legs turned to boneless jelly. 

Felix wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping them both propped up against the wall as they gasped and sweated. Felix's exhausted breaths blew hot against Ashe's neck.

After a few moments, Felix eased himself out of Ashe and they both slumped to the floor of the dirty closet. 

Ashe curled up on the floor as Felix sat beside him. Occasional reverberations quivered through him, sending him shivering. He let out a long, contented sigh.

And immediately wished he hadn't. 

Instantly, he heard Felix getting back to his feet and shuffling into his clothing. He laced up his pants, tugging the thigh-high boots over them. 

Ashe looked up at him from the floor. Goddess, did Felix know what those boots did to him? He couldn't possibly, not from the slightly disgusted look on his face. 

Ashe huddled against the wall, suddenly cold. Felix fixed his disheveled ponytail, not looking down at the archer. It was always like this. How could he go from such intoxicating heat to this painful frigidity? And yet Ashe yearned already for his touch again, for the next time he would interrupt him, hungry and demanding, and Ashe would make some excuse to neglect his duties. 

Felix started toward the door of the closet, pausing just before opening it. "You were loud," he said. "Make some excuse." 

"I'll think of something," Ashe said around the lump in his throat. "Wait," he said as Felix reached for the door. He regretted the word almost as soon as it left his lips, but it was too late now. Felix's icy glare had turned toward him. "Why must we hide? Why must we lie? We could--"

"No," Felix said. He left without another word and Ashe shivered against the cold stone, hugging his clothes to his naked body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's art of this chapter now! Holy fuck. Thank you so much to the wonderful and talented Catatune, who did [this amazing piece of art](https://twitter.com/Catatune/status/1253855724658216960?s=20) depicting a spicy closet fuck that turned into a weird epic fantasy novel! 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)!
> 
> I reply to every comment! Thank you, friends.


	2. A Thief in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having overheard the escapade in the closet, the Blue Lions are onto Ashe. Now that Sylvain's got the scent, Felix intends to have a stern word with Ashe and end it... if he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an outline for my smut. What have I become?
> 
> So it looks like I'm continuing this regardless, god help me. 
> 
> SPOILERS: If you haven't finished the Blue Lions route completely, there will eventually be spoilers, if this all goes to plan. This chapter is safe.

When Felix entered the dining hall, he was met with laughter. 

It almost looked like a scene from five years ago, everyone relaxed and joking, sharing their favorite meals as though they had no heavier burdens than passing an exam. Even Dimitri seemed more man than beast. 

Felix scoffed. How could they be so carefree and thoughtless? Such lax attitudes had created the very war they now fought. 

Then he spied Ashe in the center of the group, his face red as a tomato. 

Felix clenched his jaw as a shiver trickled down his spine. 

"Come on, Ashe," Ingrid said. "Just tell us who it was."

"They sounded like a good time. It's selfish to keep that to yourself," Sylvain said, winking. 

Ashe turned even redder.

"Oh, leave him be," Mercedes said, but she and the rest of the Blue Lions were already laughing anew. Even Dedue let a chuckle escape. 

Felix ground his teeth together. What had that little idiot gone and told them? 

He was still debating whether to charge in and shake Ashe or flee before the accusations could fly when Sylvain noticed him standing just outside the group.

"Felix, have you heard?" the red-haired man said.

"Everyone else did," Mercedes muttered. She immediately blushed, as though embarrassed by her own joke, and the rest of the Lions erupted in jeers.

Felix caught Ashe's eyes while everyone else cackled. He must have looked as angry as he felt because the red in Ashe's face drained to gray. 

Sylvain jumped up from the table and put an arm around Felix's shoulders. It took all Felix's patience not to break the man's hand.

"Seems our sweet little archer has a naughty side," Sylvain said. Mirth dripped from his voice.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Felix said between gritted teeth.

"Ingrid and Dimtri were sparring yesterday when they heard..." Sylvain paused, a wicked smile curling his lips. "Well, it wasn't exactly prayers, though he invoked the goddess loudly enough to wake her and all her siblings. A truly blasphemous display, by all accounts." 

"It--it wasn't," Ashe stuttered. "I was just--"

"There's no need to apologize for a good time," Sylvain said. "We just want to know who it was who had you praying for you life. He's as taciturn today as he was boisterous yesterday." 

Felix tsked and pushed Sylvain away from him. "I don't care about any of this." 

Sylvain sighed. "Should have known. You're no fun at all, Felix. Doesn't anything make your blood run hot?" 

One thing did, but at the moment Felix wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck the man or kill him. He shook his head. "This is stupid." 

He started to back away, but heard Sylvain chasing after him.

"Let him go," Dimitri said. "There's no point trying to jest with that one around to dampen everyone's mood."

"A fine sentiment from a murderous boar," Felix shot back. He didn't even turn to deliver the remark, hurrying from the dining hall. 

This time, no one attempted to follow him. Just as well. He needed his sword and an empty training room if he was going to try to calm himself enough not to strangle Ashe later. How could he be so careless? He'd sworn yesterday that he'd come up with an excuse for the noise. That clearly hadn't happened. Now Sylvain was on the trail. And if Felix knew anything about Sylvain, he knew the insatiable fiend would chase a juicy rumor like this until he uncovered a satisfactory answer. 

"Damn it, Ashe," Felix hissed under his breath. But even as he cursed the man he felt an uncomfortable heat build within him. 

He needed a sword. Now. 

#

Felix worked himself nearly to exhaustion. The exercise dispersed his anger, made his head feel clear and rational again. 

Even so, he avoided of the rest of the monastery for the remainder of the day. 

Cleaned up and fairly confident he wouldn't throttle Ashe on sight, Felix waited in his quarters. Only after the entire monastery was thoroughly asleep would he go and have a word with the noisy archer. He'd have to end it then and there. He couldn't allow any more slip ups of this sort. It was too dangerous. And even if Felix cut it off now, Sylvain might still uncover the truth. 

Felix sighed. He'd have to deal with Sylvain another time. Tonight, he'd end this madness with Ashe and free himself of this burden. 

He cursed himself for letting it get this far in the first place. It was never supposed to be like this. When had he lost control of the situation? 

Felix was startled from his thoughts as the lock to his door clicked. He was on his feet in an instant, a knife at the ready. 

The moment the door opened he grabbed the person breaking in, pressing the blade to their throat. 

Ashe put up empty hands. "It's me," he said. 

Felix shoved him away. "What were you thinking?" He shut the door and rounded on the smaller man. "I nearly slit your idiot throat."

Ashe was pale, touching the place where Felix's blade had bit into his skin. "I thought you'd be asleep."

"And you believed it wise to break into my quarters?"

"I wanted to talk. I thought..."

Felix sighed and shook his head, sitting on his bed. Sometimes Ashe's early life as a thief and commoner really showed. 

Ashe gingerly settled beside him. "About what happened in the dining hall today..."

The anger flared back up. "You fool. What was that? When Sylvain's got the scent he'll follow it like a dog." 

"I know," Ashe said. "I'm sorry. I don't think they know yet."

"Yet."

"I'll fix it. I... have an idea."

"Well, I certainly hope it's better than your previous ideas." 

"It will be." 

Felix let out a breath and dared glance at the silver-haired man beside him. A slight flush crept into Ashe's cheeks when Felix met his eyes. It felt strange, having such an effect on someone so easily. But even as Felix chided Ashe's weakness, he felt his stomach clench. 

He moved with a speed that surprised even himself, throwing Ashe fully onto his bed and perching over him. Ashe wore only a loose linen shirt and trousers, disheveled from the sudden motion.

"Felix," Ashe said, reaching a hand up for him. 

Felix pinned it back down to the mattress and yanked at Ashe's shirt, exposing his stomach. He kissed and sucked at the delicate skin, flicking his tongue at the soft hollow beside a hip bone. 

Ashe whined and arched. Felix glared up at the sound and found Ashe biting his hand to quiet himself. May the goddess damn him, but that pleading, yearning look from Ashe made Felix's blood feel like fire in his veins. It was almost like battle madness, but more intoxicating and wild. There'd be no more talking this night.

Felix drew back. Ashe's pants strained against the bulge that had risen within them. Felix ran a hand over it roughly and Ashe's entire body shuddered. His mouth opened in a gasp but no noise escaped. 

Felix kept a hand on Ashe's crotch as he leaned over him and close to his face. "You'll stay quiet this time." 

It wasn't a question, but Ashe nodded. He bit his lip as he squirmed against Felix's hand. Merciful gods, that look. Was Ashe a master manipulator set on destroying him or just a beautiful moron? 

Felix didn't care. He swept down to kiss and nibble the lip Ashe had so tantalizingly chewed. As he did, he yanked both of Ashe's arms above his head and held them there. Ashe writhed beneath him, their legs entangled and bodies grinding. They were both hard now, pushing hungrily against each other. 

Ashe's mouth was sweet on his. Still, he left it, moving to his ears and neck. As expected, Ashe's breaths turned to soft whimpering. Felix flicked at Ashe's ear with his tongue and felt the man jerk beneath him. So sensitive. If he wasn't afraid of leaving a mark, Felix would have seen how far he could push Ashe with just this, but as things stood, he had to move carefully and delicately over the sensitive territory.

Suddenly, Ashe slipped free. The movement was so quick and fluid even Felix felt surprised. In the next instant, he was on his back with Ashe straddling him.

Felix blinked. How easy it was to underestimate this one. But he'd truly become stronger in the past five years.

Ashe looked abashed. "I--I want to..." 

He glanced away for a moment, then slid down to Felix's waist and started working at the laces on his pants. His hands became clumsy, struggling over the ties. 

Felix might have scoffed. If he'd had time. But the moment his laces loosened, Ashe had his cock in his hand, then his mouth.

Felix struggled not to groan as Ashe took him fully into his mouth. He was enveloped in hot wetness as Ashe's lips slid up and down his length. The silver-haired man seemed to savor every inch, moving up and down in a tortuously slow glide. 

Felix lost all sense of his body, enraptured by the sensation of Ashe's mouth. He'd never seen this assertive side of the other man, but he feared he liked it almost too much. Losing control like this, having Ashe take charge and lead him, felt surprisingly... He had no words for it, not right now, but the thought alone drew out a soft groan.

Ashe must have noticed the noise because he tightened his lips at points, producing pulses of agonizing pleasure. His tongue flicked out, teasing his head, gliding along with his lips. Ashe put one hand at the base to increase the pressure. He squeezed strategically, bringing Felix to the edge only to guide him back down to sanity. Felix could do nothing but struggle to keep breathing as Ashe toyed with him. _Damn him!_

Ashe's other hand reached down to fondle Felix's balls and that nearly tipped him over the edge before he could control himself. Not that Felix had much control over anything to do with this situation. It seemed the more he tried to control and contain, the more voracious his lust for the infuriating, beautiful, bumbling little archer became. 

"Oh goddess," he moaned, and he did not know if it was a sigh of pleasure or a plea for help. 

Ashe seemed to take it as the former. His pace and pressure increased, his rhythm creating a perfect harmony of sensations that had Felix gripping the bed sheets. His tongue worked overtime. Felix felt consumed entirely, spinning out of control as the fire within him threatened to spill over. 

"I'm gonna--" 

Ashe grasped one of Felix's hands and gave it an encouraging squeeze. That was all the signal Felix needed. He let the fire overwhelm his senses. His back arched as heat spilled out of him and he struggled not to cry out. He clutched Ashe's silver hair in one hand, pulling hard as the man drank him in. 

He panted as the release relented. He was sure if he'd been standing he would have fallen. Goddess have mercy, where and when had Ashe learned all _that_? 

Ashe eased off him and sat up. Felix shook the pleasant haze from his mind and reached for a cloth, but Ashe swallowed and wiped his mouth before he could. It was all Felix could do to keep his jaw from hitting his chest. 

Ashe cocked his head to one side, innocent as ever. "Are you well?"

Felix cleared his throat and sat up. "Yes."

"I hope I wasn't too rough."

_Too rough?_ Felix could have toppled off the bed. He gawked at the freckled face across from him, a face that belied all the things that sweet mouth could do. He'd show this filthy angel "rough."

Felix grabbed Ashe by the hips and yanked him onto his lap. Ashe gasped as Felix gripped his cock, his cheeks flushing beneath the freckles. Felix wasted no time, running a sure hand up and down the shaft, teasing the head, feeling Ashe get hard and twitchy against him. Ashe's breaths turned back into soft whimpers. Felix couldn't help relishing the sound. He stroked harder, trying to draw out more little cries of pleasure from the other man.

Ashe gripped his shoulders, his nails biting into Felix's skin. The slight shock of pain sent an unexpected shiver through Felix and made something churn in his stomach. _Mercy, again? Already?_ He wasn't sure his body could take any more so soon. And yet he yearned to try, to push past his own limits and make Ashe beg him for it. 

"Wait," Ashe gasped. 

Felix was happy to comply, at least for the moment. 

Ashe eased Felix's hand off his cock, but remained sitting on him, panting for breath. 

"What's wrong?" Felix said. 

"Nothing, nothing, I just..." Ashe sat up straighter so he could look into Felix's eyes. "I want something else." 

A buffet of wicked ideas flitted through Felix's mind. Despite cumming only minutes ago, he felt a twitch that left his stomach in knots. Even so, some part of him, most of him, wanted to find a way to satisfy this insatiable demon. 

But Ashe said, "Not that."

"Then what? Out with it." Impatience began to replace his arousal. It was almost a relief. 

"I want to talk." 

Felix felt his nostrils flare. 

"I... I gave you something. All I want is a chance to talk." 

Felix shoved Ashe off him, disgusted, nauseated, and leapt off the bed. He yanked his pants up, retying the laces. He could have spit. Or vomited. Gave _me something? How dare he?_

"Out."

"Wait, just let me explain." 

"No." Felix jabbed a finger at the door. He took deep breaths to ease the disgust roiling his stomach.

Ashe struggled to get his trousers relaced, nearly tripping as he bounced off the bed to face Felix. His silver hair stood askew; his shirt twisted to reveal the curve of a hip bone. It almost made Felix forget his anger--almost. 

"Please," Ashe said, "I just want to--"

"Are you a whore?" Felix said, struggling not to shout. 

"Of course not."

"Then why did you come here meaning to trade your body like one?"

Ashe flushed. "That's not why I... I didn't do that because... I never planned to do anything but talk."

"Yet you barter with me now like I purchased that mouth of yours for the night." Felix ground his teeth. Could Ashe not seeing the foolishness of what he was doing? Could he not see how much worse he'd just made everything? From the bewildered look on his face and the tears shimmering in his eyes, Felix presumed no.

Felix let a long breath out through his nose. He felt his crest flaring up, but this was not a battle it could help him win. 

He strode forward, taking Ashe's chin in his hand. He gripped hard enough to force the other man to look up at him, but not hard enough to actually hurt. He would not become a beast; he was better than that at least. Still, he needed there to be no misunderstanding now. 

"Go," Felix said. "And do not come back here."

Felix relaxed his grip, but Ashe continued staring up at him, a tear slipping down his cheek. He stepped back abruptly, scrubbing at his eyes. The former thief stole out of the room, slipping into the dark, silent halls of Garreg Mach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)!
> 
> I reply to every comment! Thank you, friends.


	3. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe needs help. Bad. 
> 
> Luckily, Annette has noticed his sorry sighs and swoops in to help. But first, Ashe has to dish it all. Every intimate detail of just how he got entangled with the elusive and aloof Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, it's really hard to write a story that has a plot and also think of a reason for people to bang in every chapter. Also I love Ashe and Annette as besties and you can't change my mind.
> 
> This one is way longer than previous chapters and messes with the cannon in mild ways. Also, I fully admit that I have NO idea where everyone's rooms are located and I'm not even going to try to sort that out. Felix's was somewhere in the middle? I think? 
> 
> SPOILERS: Definitely talking about time skip stuff here. If you haven't finished Blue Lions read at your own risk. I talk about the time skip in particular and what caused it.

"If you sigh even one more time I'm going to throw this book at you," Annette said. 

Ashe startled, blinking at the book before him. He was still on the same page he'd been on an hour ago. The words blurred before his eyes. He couldn't remember why he'd gone to the library in the first place, let alone why a book about black magic sat before him.

Annette rose to sit across from him. She looked about to scold him, but gasped instead. "Ashe! Have you been crying?"

Ashe scrubbed at his eyes. "Oh, no, it must be allergies." He tried a smile, but felt it waver.

Annette reached across the table to take his hand. Only when she eased the quill out of his grasp did he realize how tightly he'd been clutching it.

"Ashe."

Ashe couldn't look up at his friend. She'd always been able to see through him, even back when they were students. It was Annette who'd discovered Ashe's hopeless crush on Felix years ago, Annette who'd kept his secret all these years, Annette who'd realized he was distraught while the rest of the Blue Lions forged on oblivious. 

As teenagers, their connection had caused most of their classmates to assume they had some sort of relationship and Ashe and Annette hadn't bothered correcting them (they'd even explored the possibly, once, ultimately deciding friends was the right choice). In truth, he was as close with Annette as he was with anyone. Well, emotionally, at least. It would be hard to get much closer to Felix than having him push you against a wall and stick his--

Ashe felt his cheeks flush. He shook his head vigorously. Annette gave his hand a squeeze. "Ashe," she said again, gently chiding. 

He felt the dam break within him. "Oh, Annette, it's so awful." 

She swept to action, hopping to her feet and pulling him up. She looped her arm through his, tugging him from the library. 

"Wait, our books," he squeaked. 

"They'll be fine," she said. "You, from the looks of it, won't. Now, hush."

He obeyed, letting her pull him along at a quick clip. 

"Where are we going?" he said.

"My room." 

"But everyone's meeting in the war room. We'll miss it."

"Byleth can scold us later," Annette said. 

Her tone allowed no further argument and Ashe did not try.

#

The scent of mint calmed Ashe's nerves. Annette brought him a steaming cup and set it in his hands. She sat at her desk, across from where he sat on her bed.

Ashe inhaled the tea vapor, letting the coolness spread through his body. Of course Annette had chosen his favorite tea, even though he was sure she would have preferred the sweet apple blend she loved so much. It was this sort of unflinching kindness that had drawn the two of them to each other in the first place. Even their fumbling attempt at physical intimacy hadn't broken their friendship, the one mad time they'd tried it. It wasn't _bad_, as Ashe recalled, it just wasn't _right_. They'd both immediately agreed to keep it as a failed experiment and nothing more.

"So," she said, "are you ready to talk?" 

He sighed, but there was no force behind her words. He knew that she'd let him talk in his own time. When he finally looked up at her, she was sipping her tea calmly, waiting but not pushing, leaving him space to talk but not dragging the words out of him. He felt a pang of guilt. How much had he been neglecting their friendship in order to be with Felix these past months? It all felt like a blur of bad decisions.

"Oh Annette, I'm so sorry," he said, looking back down into his tea. 

She surprised him by laughing. "Well, love makes people dumb."

He jerked his head up, eyes so wide they could have popped out. His face burned. "L--l--l--"

Annette laughed again. "Oh, my sweet Ashe. I'm sorry. That was mean of me. I couldn't resist. You're just so obviously smitten."

Ashe groaned and shook his head. 

"Is it him?" 

All he could do was nod. 

"Of course." Her voice took on a dangerous edge. "I swear to the goddess herself, if he's hurt you, I don't care how flashy his sword his, he will learn a thing or two about respecting my friends." 

Ashe heard a crackle and saw a spark of flame dance over Annette's hands. He blinked. He'd only seen her prodigious magical ability flare out of her control one other time and that had been in the midst of battle. Then, she'd left two full battalions in ruins, their commanders fleeing for their lives. 

"Wait, Annette, it's not like that," Ashe said. 

"It better not be," she muttered.

"I mean, it's just so confusing," Ashe started, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's not like I'm exactly saying 'no,' but when he shoves me in a closet and I only have a second to think I can barely remember my own name, let alone talk him into a reasonable discussion. It's not exactly his strong point in the best of times, but when he's--"

"Wait, wait," Annette said. "What's this about a closet? Slow down."

"I just want to talk," Ashe went on, hardly hearing her. "Is that so awful? Maybe he does have some good reason, but how can I even try to understand if he won't _tell me_?"

Annette stood, grabbing Ashe by the shoulders and giving him a gentle shake. "Ashe. Stop."

He clamped his mouth shut. Looking up at Annette's kind, worried face, he almost felt like he might start crying again. 

She retrieved her tea and sat beside him on the bed, taking one of his hands in hers. Giving it a squeeze, she said, "Start at the beginning."

Ashe took a deep breath.

#

Ashe lay in the grass of one of Garreg Mach's gardens, reading as the afternoon sun beat down on him. The air smelled of the flowers Dedue so carefully tended. Footsteps and distant conversation created a hum of white noise. The sun warmed Ashe through his black school uniform.

It wasn't often he got to indulge in his favorite stories in the middle of the day. Byleth was keeping the students busy with training and study. But this afternoon, this bright, sunny day, was all for knightly adventures and chivalrous deeds. 

Until, that was, a shadow fell over him, blocking out the sunlight.

Ashe looked past his book and nearly yelped. Felix stood over him looking impossibly tall and slender in his black uniform. 

"I finished it," Felix said without preamble.

Ashe blinked, utterly lost. "I--I'm sorry?"

Felix sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "Your stupid book. I finished it." 

Ashe sat up. "The one I lent you?" 

Felix crouched beside Ashe. Ashe admired the easy way he moved, even in such a simple, ordinary gesture. He really was like the knights Ashe read about. The casual grace, the way he talked, the lean muscle of his arms. 

Ashe suddenly realized how close they were now that Felix had crouched down to his level. He felt heat creep into his cheeks. 

Felix shoved a book toward him. "Here."

Ashe accepted the book, glad for a distraction. "Did you enjoy it?" 

Felix's amber eyes flitted around, searching for anyone close enough to overhear. "It was... adequate."

"That's practically a compliment," Ashe said, laughing. 

"Stop that, will you?" Felix was looking off to the side now and was that... was he _blushing_? Ashe dared not press. 

"Sorry," he said.

"Why are you apologizing? You didn't do anything wrong."

"You seemed uncomfortable." 

"I'm not--" Felix snapped. He bit down on the rest of the sentence. Letting out a huff, he stood, so quick and fluid. "I would speak to you more about this book... if you like." 

Ashe brightened. "Oh, I'd love that."

Felix rubbed a hand over his mouth. "Well. Fine. Tonight, then?"

Ashe's heart skipped a beat. "Well, yes. I'd like that." 

Felix grunted something and spun on his heel, leaving Ashe bewildered in the garden.

#

"I remember this," Annette said. "You moped around for a month."

Ashe shook his head. 

"Was that the start of it?" she asked.

"Yes."

"You told me about the book back then," Annette said. "Was there more? Did you... did you actually see him that night?"

Ashe nodded miserably and continued.

#

Ashe's hand trembled when he lifted it to knock at the door to Felix's quarters. Oh goddess, what was he doing? He clutched the book Felix had returned that afternoon to his chest. _It's just a friendly discussion about a book,_ he told himself. Of course it was. Felix was painfully literal. He'd said they'd talk about a book, so they would absolutely, positively, definitely--

They did not talk about the book. 

The door opened before Ashe could work up the nerve to knock and Felix yanked him inside. They stood there for a moment, Ashe with his back pressed against the wall and a book clutched to his chest, Felix gritting his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw jerked. 

Then Felix had leaned in, his hand gliding along Ashe's jaw as their lips met, and it was the strangest and most wonderful sensation Ashe could remember in all his 16 years. From so close, Felix smelled of leather and iron, yet his hand was gentle on Ashe's face, his lips surprisingly soft. 

If Ashe could have done one thing differently in that moment, he would have held on tighter to that damn book.

As it was, it slipped from his hands, entirely forgotten, and clattered to the floor with a thud.

The noise seemed to jolt Felix to his senses. He jerked back, his eyes wide and horrified. He wiped his mouth, then started pacing back and forth in the small student bedroom provided by the monastery. Ashe retrieved the book with shaking hands, hugging it to his chest as his heart tried to hammer out of his body. 

"You should go," Felix said. 

It was all Ashe could do at the time to blink and nod. Still, he couldn't force himself to move yet. 

Felix strode to the door, cracking it open and moving Ashe toward it. At the last instant, he gripped Ashe's arm, holding him in place. For an instant, the hard planes of the swordsman's face softened. Then he swallowed, regaining his composure, righting his mask of ice. 

"You ought not speak of this," Felix said.

"OK," Ashe said. 

But in the weeks and months that followed, absolutely nothing about that one, brief, mind-fucking moment felt "OK."

#

"Nothing else happened while we were in school," Ashe said.

"Nothing?" Annette said. "Geeze, Ashe. All that time. All that time you just suffered and there was nothing? _Nothing?_"

Ashe shook his head. "Sometimes I'd catch him looking, but he'd always turn away and sneer."

"Oh Ashe," Annette said. She squeezed the hand she still held. "Wait. Does this mean that... Oh my sweet goddess, Ashe, does that mean I was your first?"

"Oh mercy," Ashe said, but he was already laughing. "Oh goodness, I... You must have been." 

Annette joined his laughter, releasing his hand to put her arm around his shoulders. "My sweet Ashe. All mine." 

They stayed like that a moment, happy just to laugh over their younger, more foolish selves while holding each other. But when the mirth subsided Ashe sighed. 

"Then everything fell apart," he said. "Edelgard ran off. The war started. The professor disappeared. It was total chaos. We all kind of went our separate ways for a while."

Annette nodded. "It was a hard five years. I was so afraid I would lose you to some stupid senseless battle somewhere."

"I had to get to my siblings," Ashe said. "I had to keep them safe. It was all I could do to keep them alive those five years, with war breaking out everywhere we turned. I really thought... I really thought it was enough to make me forget about him." 

"But?" Annette prodded.

"But... then we came back."

#

Ashe had never intended to be the first one back to the monastery. Yet here he was, a day early for the Blue Lions' planned reunion, standing alone in the rubble of Garreg Mach.

First and foremost, of course, Ashe had ensured the safety of his siblings. With Lonato gone and every town and city under threat, he couldn't live with leaving them in the place where they'd all grown up. Despite their protests, he'd brought them into Gautier territory. Sylvain had been surprisingly magnanimous in not just accepting them, but ensuring they'd be as safe as anyone could with the whole continent fighting. 

It hadn't been easy saying goodbye, but Ashe had a duty to the Blue Lions. So he'd set out well ahead of Sylvain, planning to do what he could to right the wrongs of the war along his way. 

And he'd certainly found his share of wrongs to right. But war, as it turned out, was far more complicated than good and bad, right and wrong. Ashe had spent most of his time just chasing off bandits, bandits who had more often than not just been ordinary townsfolk until their village was razed in this battle or that. 

Eventually, to his great shame, he'd run, head down, tail between his legs. There was no justice in war, no rights that did not come without wrongs, no wrongs that could not be right in a different light.

So Ashe ended up at Garreg Mach early. Alone. Defeated. Greeted by nothing but a pile of broken stone.

He wandered the destroyed monastery miserably, wondering what he'd tell his siblings when he saw them next. He'd left them behind to go do something _good_ in the world. Something chivalrous and important. And he here was, an utter failure. 

He let his feet lead him. Past the training hall with holes in the roof. Past the dining hall, now missing its doors. Past the greenhouse, now a graveyard of brown brittle husks. 

He found himself pacing the long hall of dorm rooms that had once housed students. Dimitri's room. Mercedes'. Sylvain's. Ingrid's. His chest clenched. Felix's. He touched the door. It creaked back, revealing an empty, dusty room. A faint scent of leather hit him and Ashe's heart ached. How sweet it would be to go back to the days when he cried to Annette about his stupid crush, when they'd all trained and studied and gotten crushes like the children they were. Would any of them return? Were any of them dead? He could just picture Felix throwing himself into battle during a war and never coming back. 

Ashe was about to retreat when he spied something on the decrepit desk in the room. He brushed dust off a book long forgotten. _Loog and the Maiden of Wind._

Ashe picked up the book with shaking hands. The binding creaked with age when he opened it, the pages yellowing at the edges. It smelled of must and time and memories and here it was. Here. In Felix's room. 

He hugged the book to his chest, a lump forming in his throat as he remembered Felix's uncharacteristic patience when Ashe prattled on about his favorite book. Goddess, how bold Ashe had been, pressing a silly book like this on _the_ Felix Hugo Fraldarius, class misanthrope. Yet Felix had tolerated it--multiple times!--even accepting other book recommendations. Ashe shook his head, laughing softly at himself. It felt like the first time he'd laughed in five years. 

He retreated from the room with the book still hugged against him and paced farther down the hall, to his own quarters. His footsteps sounded loud with so much emptiness around him. It would be a long, cold night, sleeping in these haunted halls alone. 

Or so he thought.

But when he nudged his door gently open, he stopped, standing stock still in his doorway and staring at the person sitting on his bed, thumbing through the pages of an old book. 

Felix's head jerked up at the sound of Ashe entering the room. Ashe gaped, hugging the book more tightly. The past five years showed clearly on Felix's face. There were faint lines below his amber eyes. His purple-black hair hung in his face, longer now. All the hard planes and angles that had been there before looked sunken in even more, like he'd been carved out of stone.

And yet he was, undeniably still Felix. When he stood, he stood with that easy grace, that deadly, careful readiness, that Ashe could have picked out from across the monastery. 

"Well," Felix said. He set the book aside.

That single word helped break Ashe from his stupor. He shook himself. "H--hello. I, um, I didn't think anyone else was here yet."

"Nor did I." 

There was something about hearing Felix's voice again that made Ashe's legs feel shaky. His memories didn't do it justice. 

"You've gotten stronger," Felix said, looking Ashe up and down.

Ashe looked down at his new leather armor, the long coat and travel-worn boots. It was a strange thing to hear, from anyone but Felix. Coming from him it was a compliment of the highest order. "I've tried to," Ashe said. 

Felix nodded approvingly. 

Silence fell between them, thick as a brick wall and just as impregnable. Ashe urged himself to step forward, to break the stalemate, to do something, _anything_. His heart hammered against his chest as though trying to escape. And Felix just stood there watching him with that icy, unreadable gaze, looking tall and lean and strong in his light blue pants and coat. The boots that reached halfway up his thighs made Ashe's mouth water. Was this some sort of joke or dream? It couldn't be real.

Felix stepped toward him. It was the movement of a hunter, sure but cautious, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger. He stood so close Ashe could smell the leather and iron on him. Felix was only barely taller than him now, but in that moment Ashe felt small as a mouse looking up at a hungry cat. 

"You found my book," Felix said. He pressed a finger against the cover Ashe held to his chest.

Ashe could only nod, mouth agape. 

"Does it live up to your expectations, this war we're in?"

Ashe swallowed. "No." The word escaped as a breath. 

"War rarely does." The finger on the book trailed up. Felix ran it along Ashe's jaw, then tilted Ashe's chin up. 

Ashe could scarcely breathe. Felix paused for an interminable moment, simply watching him, seemingly as impassive and unperturbed as he'd be watching grass grow. 

Then he leaned down and their lips met and Ashe might have been 16 again, standing shocked in Felix's room instead of his own. This time, though, the kiss lingered. Instead of jerking away quickly, Felix loitered, his mouth pressing harder. Ashe opened his own lips in a sigh and Felix's tongue slipped inside.

The book fell with a clatter. They broke apart. Ashe cursed his clumsy hands, betraying him once again. 

This time, however, when Felix took him by the arm, it was not to force him away but to drag him to the bed. Ashe found himself sitting on the sunken mattress blinking up at the flushed swordsman towering over him. 

Felix said nothing as he began unbuttoning his jacket and unlacing the shirt beneath. Soon, he wore only his pants and the thigh-high boots. 

"Well," he snapped. "Don't just stare at me." 

Ashe would have laughed at the genuine embarrassment in Felix's voice if he dared. Though, in his opinion, Felix had absolutely nothing to feel embarrassed over. The years had carved his body into something more like a statue than a real flesh and blood man. Ashe could not find an ounce of waste on his slender body. Muscle coiled like rope up his arms and across his shoulders. A faint trail of dark hair trickled down his taut abs, disappearing where his pants clung to slim hipbones. 

Felix sighed, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead in a gesture that was so purely _Felix_ that this time Ashe did laugh. Felix shot him a dark glare. 

"I can't help it," Ashe said. "You're just so... so..." 

"Do you want this or not, Ubert?" Felix spat. 

More than he could possibly express, especially with that sculpted body standing right there before him. Ashe started at the belt across his chest in response. He heard Felix's boots thud on the floor as he got his own armor and quiver free and tossed them aside. 

Felix, apparently, ran out of patience at that point. He unbuttoned Ashe's jacket himself. Once it was gone, he tugged the archer's shirt off, nearly tearing the linen in the process. Then Felix pushed Ashe back onto the bed and perched over him like a tiger evaluating its next meal. His amber eyes roamed Ashe's bare chest. 

"I was right," he murmured. "Stronger." 

Ashe supposed it was a compliment, though he couldn't fathom how his body could match up to the one hovering over him. He reached a tentative hand up. When Felix didn't flinch away, Ashe ran his fingers over the swordsman's chest, not even sure what he was doing other than relishing the fact that this was truly, impossibly, miraculously _real_ right now. Another laugh escaped.

"Are you OK?" Felix said.

Ashe nodded. "I've thought about this so much. Even with everything that was going on. I couldn't stop thinking about... about you. But I never believed it would happen." 

"I thought about it too."

Ashe did not have time to feel shocked at the statement, so quiet he wasn't even sure he'd really heard it, before Felix leaned in, kissing him again, pressing him into the bed. Felix's hand roamed to Ashe's hip and even that light pressure made Ashe quiver. 

Felix moved to Ashe's neck, his kisses light and quick here, but they made Ashe's skin break out in goosebumps. He squirmed, unable to contain the sensations sparking through him like lightning. He heard himself whimper, his own voice seeming far away and strange. 

"I've found your weakness, Ubert," Felix said, low, close to his ear, his breath a hot tickle. It was part threat, part promise, and oh, how Ashe hoped Felix exploited it to the fullest. 

Felix put his leg between Ashe's, applying careful pressure at Ashe's groin, and he forgot all about his neck. Ashe couldn't contain the groan this time. He arched into the pressure. Felix leaned down against him, their chests touching as Felix ground against him. Ashe gasped, feeling the other man against his leg. He grabbed at Felix's back, his nails digging in as he clutched for something solid and strong amid the torrent of ecstasy overwhelming his senses. He heard Felix's breaths getting ragged, heard his own breathing turn consistently to whimpers and whines. 

Felix drew back abruptly. He tore at the laces on Ashe's pants, exposing him before doing the same to himself. Ashe swallowed. He'd never looked at anything and felt this... this _hungry_ before, but he thought he might take one taste of Felix and never want for anything for the rest of his days.

Felix brought their bodies back together and now Ashe felt Felix's cock against his leg. It made him shudder with eagerness. 

Felix put his mouth close to Ashe's ear. His voice oozed out like honey. "I need to fuck you now." 

_Need_. Ashe nearly came just from those words rasped into his ear. "O--OK."

"Have you done this before?" 

"S--some things. Not, uh, not what I think you're implying."Goddess, could he stop sounding like such a bumbling idiot for just this moment? 

Felix laughed, just a breath. "We'll start slower."

Start. Start? Ashe didn't have time to work through all the implications of that. Felix sat back and rubbed something up and down his own dick and laying there just watching him do that to himself was nearly enough for Ashe. 

The most sinister smile Ashe had ever seen curled one side of Felix's mouth then. He reached for Ashe's cock. It twitched in his hand. 

"Not yet," Felix chided softly. 

But he continued stroking it, drawing out a trickle of pre-cum that Ashe couldn't stop. Then Felix rubbed it on Ashe's thighs. He guided Ashe up and turned him around so he had his back to Felix, propped up on all fours. Felix pressed up behind him, his cock against Ashe's legs. 

"I won't go in," Felix said. 

Then he put his cock between Ashe's thighs. As he pushed forward, Ashe felt something pressing against his balls. Felix's hands gripped his hips, leading him back and forth. Ashe squeezed his thighs tight, clenching Felix between them. Encouraged, Felix increased his pace, finding a steady rhythm. 

Ashe clutched the bed sheets, gasping with each thrust. Feeling Felix against him like that, holding his hips, their bodies smacking together, the pressure building. Feeling his fingers dig in to his hips, so eager. Eager for _him_, panting and grunting for _him_. Ashe wondered again how it could be real, even as he felt the weight of the other man against him.

Ashe's voice came out unexpectedly loud. Felix grunted. They collapsed, Felix now sprawled over him, a hand on Ashe's small back pushing him into the mattress. Ashe shifted his hips in time with Felix's movement, trying to push him farther, harder. He could not control the sounds coming out of him now, lost in sweet ecstasy. 

Felix placed a finger near Ashe's asshole, running it around the rim. When he pressed, Ashe cried out, his body shuddering. Felix laughed, a short, wicked sound, and Ashe knew he was entirely at the man's mercy. Never had surrender felt so good.

Felix's pace increased, frantic now. He panted over Ashe. All the while, his skillful fingers found Ashe's weakest points, teasing him toward the edge but never letting him tip over it. 

"Shit," Felix hissed and Ashe felt him convulse. He had only an instant to register something warm beneath him before Felix's fingers pressed and it was all Ashe could do not to shriek. His body arched. He quivered as the orgasm thundered through him, his legs shaking. He may as well have never cum in life for the orgasm that rocked him then, blurring out every sense, blotting out the rest of the world as it crashed over him. 

"Oh, oh goddess," he heard himself moan. "Oh sweet go--" 

Felix interrupted him, a hand under his chin, his mouth at his ear. "She did not do this." 

Ashe nearly came again. "Felix," he breathed. 

The swordsman smiled against his ear, nibbling at it. 

They slept in Ashe's bed that night, Felix's arm slung around his waist.

#

Ashe looked up, sheepish, to find Annette practically drooling beside him. Her tea had gone completely cold. She sat with it frozen partway to her lips.

Ashe's cheeks burned. "Annette!"

She blinked rapidly and seemed to return to her senses. "I--I'm sorry, Ashe, but you can't blame me. Merciful goddess, he really said those things?" 

Ashe studied his hands and nodded. 

"Wow." 

"Annette!"

"OK, OK, sorry. But seriously, Ashe, you've got your hooks in this one. Never in my life would I think I'd hear about Felix--"

"Stop, please," Ashe whined. He couldn't take another moment of feeling this embarrassed.

Annette set her tea cup aside and took one of Ashe's hands in both of hers. "So I assume that wasn't the only time?" 

Ashe shook his head. 

"Once more?" A shake. "Twice?" Another shake. "...Five?" Yet another shake. "A... a dozen?" Still another shake. "Ashe! He's an absolute fiend. How do you find time to sleep?" 

"He just barges in while I'm training, or sleeping, or eating, or... or anything and, oh, goddess help me, but I just keep saying yes."

"Well, I can't fault you there."

Ashe shot her a glance.

"Alright, alright, relax," Annette said. "I'll stop. But..." She started to hum.

"Please don't make a song about this," Ashe groaned. "I'm begging you." 

"You're no fun at all. Well... not for me, anyway."

"Please."

"OK!" She put up her hands in surrender. "So, what's the problem here? It sounds like you two are getting along pretty damn well, if I may say so."

Ashe shrugged. "That's just the thing. I don't know. He wanted to keep it quiet in the beginning, and I can respect that. We all had so many other things to worry about. And you know how Sylvain is. It seemed prudent."

"Prudent if you're a scowly jerk who refuses to let anyone get even a whiff of his private life."

Ashe chose to ignore that. "But something changed recently. Something is scaring him, I think. He's gotten... Last time I saw him he called me a whore and told me to never come back."

"Whoa, Ashe, not OK." 

"He's never been like that before," Ashe said. "He's scared of something. Now, it's not just that he wants to keep his business private, it's that he _has to_."

"Why?"

"I have no idea." Ashe's voice spiked high. "He won't talk to me, no matter how much I try." 

"Oh Ashe."

"I just wish I knew. Maybe I could help. Even if it meant... even if it really did mean it had to end, I'd still help him if I could."

Annette hugged him against her, running a hand through his silver hair. It felt so nice, cradled against his friend, safe and unjudged. "Of course you would, my dear, sweet Ashe. Even if it would shatter your heart into a thousand pieces, you'd still go out of your way and help him."

"Is that so wrong?" 

"Not unless it hurts you, and it sure seems like it's hurting you now." 

Something about the plain, astute way she called out his own feelings made them overflow and he found himself crying softly against her. She let him, stroking his hair and holding him.

"Oh Ashe. You love him so much," she said. "What can I do? Is there any way we can make this better?"

"He won't talk to me. I don't know..." Ashe trailed off as the idea hit him. But he couldn't. He couldn't possibly use Annette that way. 

"Tell me," she pressed. 

Ashe pulled away, sitting up straight and wiping his eyes. "Do you remember in the dining hall a few days ago? They were all teasing me about... well... about..."

"I know," she said, relieving him. 

"That really freaked him out. More than usual, I mean. That night, that was when he told me not to come back."

Annette, faithful as ever, sorted out Ashe's plan before he had to voice it. "We say it was me." 

Ashe couldn't look her in the eyes so he studied his hands and nodded. "Oh, but I can't ask you to do that. I could never--"

"Ashe." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Of course you can. I'd be happy to."

"But it's a lie. You'd have to pretend. And the jokes. Imagine how Sylvain will hound you."

"I can handle Sylvain," she said with a wry smile. "And they already believe that about us anyway, right? I'm the perfect one to do this. Plus," and her smile turned wicked, "Felix will know that I know."

Ashe blanched. "Annette..."

"I won't say or do anything," Annette said, but mischief danced in her eyes. "Oh but just seeing the expression on his face when he realizes..." 

Ashe looking at her, pleading.

"That's my price," she said, folding her arms. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Here I thought haggling was my skill," Ashe groaned. 

Annette just laughed and Ashe wondered if he'd somehow just made everything worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously this one really got away from me. I DO have other things to do with my life aside from write this and yet... here I am. At times this fic has me feeling helpless as Ashe himself. Looks like this is the ship I die on, friends. 
> 
> More on the way! I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)!
> 
> I reply to every comment! Thank you, friends.


	4. Friends in Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Ashe are dutifully staying away from each other. But their friends see right through them. 
> 
> Annette tries to study with Ashe. Sylvain plots a night out on the town to get Felix out of his funk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!This chapter has only implied/remembered Ashelix.!!!
> 
> *ducks tomatoes* Please don't kill me, y'all. I promise, we're back to the good shit in the next chapter, I just needed to take a brief detour. It's for the sake of the PLOT. The PLOOOOT, y'all. 
> 
> But for real, if you super hate it, please just skip this chapter. I'm sorry ><;;;;
> 
> SPOILERS: We are going to the last two battles of the Blue Lions storyline. If you haven't FINISHED BL route, this will contain massive spoilers.
> 
> I have Twitter/Tumblr/Gmail now! @purplebookcover/@purple_bookcover/purplebookcoverfic@gmail.com
> 
> (P.S. OMG is it a ponytail or a bun? I don't know. We're too deep now. Going ponytail. And I also realized too late that Felix and Ashe are the same height after the timeskip but I want Ashe to be just slightly, slightly shorter so we're rolling with that too fffff.)

Felix parried Ingrid's spear, using his sword to push it aside. He lunged past the tip and into range, but she danced away. The practice spear swept back around, the arc wide and slow. Felix stepped back, easily dodging it. 

That's when he noticed the other end of the spear. Ingrid continued her swing, building momentum. 

Felix parried just in time, but it took both hands on his sword to keep the practice spear away from his head. 

Ingrid smirked. 

Felix shoved the spear away. He felt the the dull hum of his crest within him. _She's gotten good,_ he admitted. Well, this would be fun. 

They both reset, circling each other in the training room, dull practice weapons at the ready. It had been days since the war meeting in which Byleth announced they'd be heading to Enbarr (a meeting, Felix noted, that Ashe had uncharacteristically missed). Ever since, most of the Blue Lions had thrown themselves into training and preparation. Enbarr would be no easy feat. It served as the hub of Edelgard's power; neither the emperor herself nor her loyal aid Hubert would relinquish it lightly. 

A smile tugged at one side of Felix's mouth. Just as well. Let them try to stop him. 

He lifted his sword in one hand and called a trickle of magic into the other. Ingrid shifted her feet, positioning her spear before her. 

But before either combatant could charge, crashes and bangs rang at the other end of the training room. They both lowered their weapons and turned toward the noise, only to find Sylvain hastily righting a toppled weapon rack. 

Felix sighed as Sylvain kicked aside the practice weapons he'd knocked over, ignoring his mess. He ran toward Felix and Ingrid, his cheeks flushed. 

"Guys," he panted, "I got it." 

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, taking slow, deep breaths. Ingrid sighed beside him. 

"What now?" she said. 

Sylvain struggled to catch his breath, patting the dirt and dust off his clothes. He righted his tunic, usually covered by armor these days, and grinned at his childhood friends. "I know who it was."

"Who what was?" Ingrid said.

"Do you have some reason to be here or are you just wasting our time?" Felix snapped. 

Sylvain put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out. "I have an excellent reason, in fact."

"Is it gossip?" Ingrid said flatly. 

Sylvain deflated. 

Felix and Ingrid turned away in unison, rolling their eyes. Sylvain rushed around them, putting up his hands to stop them from returning to their training. "OK, but this one is, like, _really_ good." 

"Is it better than training so we don't get slaughtered trying to take the emperor's stronghold?" Ingrid said. 

Sylvain paused, seeming to seriously weigh the two items against each other. 

Ingrid let out a disgusted huff. "You are ridiculous. You do understand Byleth and Dimitri mean to march us to Enbarr in a couple weeks, right?" 

"And I'll be ready," Sylvain said. "When have I ever let you down on the battlefield?" 

Felix and Ingrid shared a glance. 

Sylvain growled in frustration. "Ah! I can't take it anymore. You'll understand when you hear." He paused a beat, for dramatic effect, Felix supposed. "I know... wait for it... who. Was. In. The. Closet."

Felix kept his face neutral. Ingrid shrugged. "What?" she said. "What are you even talking about?"

Sylvain gaped, apparently crushed by this reception. "Come _on_. You can't have forgotten already." His voice jumped up to a false, and rather absurd, falsetto. "Yes! Oh goddess. Please!" 

Felix felt all the blood drain from his face.

Ingrid just sighed again. "You're still on about that? Leave the poor guy alone. Also, he doesn't sound anything like that." 

"You would know," Sylvain said. "You heard it yourself. Come on, you must be dying to have the mystery solved."

"Actually," Ingrid said, "I've quite moved on. Because--" And she stepped close enough to put a finger to Sylvain's chest, poking him with each word. "It's. None. Of. My. Business." 

Sylvain gaped. "You really don't want to know? At all? Not even a little?"

"Ashe is an adult," Ingrid said. "Like the rest of us. Except you, perhaps. He can do whatever he likes with whomever he likes." 

_If only that were true._ The thought flashed up unbidden and Felix immediately shoved it down. 

Sylvain turned to Felix, giving up on Ingrid. "What about you? Come on. Tell me there's a beating heart in there somewhere."

Felix just scoffed. 

Sylvain shook his head. "I should have known." 

"Yes," Felix snapped, "you should have." 

"But... but..." Sylvain stuttered. "You won't believe who it was!"

Felix thought he actually would believe it, unfortunately. That made him hot and cold all at once. He knew it'd been a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake. As soon as Sylvain got curious he was bound to chase down the answer. And what could Felix say when Sylvain eventually blurted it out? If only he'd forced Ashe to be quieter at the time. If only he hadn't let him go on moaning like he always did. Sylvain's voice was a disgusting mockery of those sweet little noises Ashe tended to make when--

Goddess damn him, no. It was over. He shook his head. He had to deal with the situation at hand and stop daydreaming. Sweet as those day drea--_No, damn you! Focus. Fix this!_

"Well, I'm telling you anyway," Sylvain was saying. 

"Don't." The word was out before Felix could stop it. 

"What? Why not? Don't tell me you're all hung up on privacy too?" Sylvain said. 

Sylvain could not have known the half of it. But surely that meant he had it wrong. Right? 

Felix ground his teeth as he searched for an explanation, for anything that could stop Sylvain from blurting out his secret. But if Sylvain already knew then that meant he was as good as exposed. It was a matter of _when_, not if. 

"Felix," Sylvain said. "You still alive?" 

"Unfortunately," Felix said.

"Well, this might bring you back to the living," Sylvain said. "It turns out the one in the closet that whole time was--"

_Goddess, no. No no no no no._ Felix had never been particularly pious, but he prayed now, hands clenched so hard his knuckles went white. 

"Annette." 

Felix nearly fell over. He blinked, feeling his jaw and hands relax. "What?" 

"I know," Sylvain said. He practically danced, overjoyed that someone had finally taken an interest in his big revelation. "All that time when we were in school everybody thought they had something going on. Well, looks like they finally did it. About damn time, if you ask me. I mean--"

Felix tuned Sylvain out as he prattled on. He struggled to make his breaths even and somewhat normal. He saw Ingrid glance at him from the side. 

"How..." he started, slow, careful, keeping his voice under tight control. "How do you even know this?" 

"Well." Sylvain stood up straighter, proud as a peacock with its feathers on full display. "I _may_ have walked past the greenhouse this morning and I _may_ have happened to spy a pair of our most adorable comrades sitting there holding hands." 

"Holding hands," Felix said flatly. "That's what this is about?" 

"It wasn't just that," Sylvain said. He rushed on, as though afraid Felix and Ingrid would flee any moment. "I saw them _kiss_." 

Ingrid heaved a sigh. "Goddess help me," she muttered. Louder, she added, "Are we 17 again? Are you a child, spying on people kissing? By the goddess herself, let it go. This is absurd." 

Felix hardly heard Ingrid as she continued to berate Sylvain. Something had stabbed his chest, a dart of cold that was spreading through him like ice. 

_You said it was over. He moved on. As he should. What did you really want?_ Felix dared not answer the voice in his head. 

_No,_ he thought. _This is good. This is what must happen. It's even thrown Sylvain off the scent._ Ashe had promised he'd take care of the situation and here it was, Ashe taking care of it. What more could Felix ask of him? 

His stomach clenched at that, informing him of all the things he could, indeed, ask of the silver-haired archer. 

_Stop it!_ he scolded himself. _It's over. You have what you want._

He blinked and noticed Ingrid and Sylvain both staring at him.

"Hey, you OK?" Sylvain said, real concern in his voice. 

"Felix?" Ingrid said gently.

Felix tsked. "This is stupid." He threw the practice sword aside. "I'm done with this." 

He spun on his heel, hurrying from the training room. Behind him, he could hear Ingrid and Sylvain muttering.

"What in the world was that?"

"Even for Felix, that was..." 

Whatever. Let them think what they want. Felix had better things to do than suffer their company.

#

Felix walked, not even knowing where he was going, just needing to move. It was how he'd always dealt with problems. Father being a dick? Go train. Brother dead? Train. World falling apart while Sylvain gets all too close to uncovering your secret trysts with someone who's apparently moved on from you in half a second and couldn't even be bothered to seem upset that--

Train!

But the training hall was off limits now, occupied as it was by Sylvain. 

So Felix walked. 

"Where are you running to?"

Or, he supposed, he ran. 

Felix continued, not heeding Sylvain's call. The taller man jogged to catch up, falling into place at Felix's side. They tromped through the monastery in silence for a moment, Sylvain hovering at his shoulder.

Felix stopped short, rounding on Sylvain. "What?" 

Sylvain put up his hands. "Whoa, easy. I just wanted to find out if you were OK."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Really?" Sylvain blanched when Felix scowled at that. "OK, OK, I mean, look. You practically ran from the training hall just now. You're tearing a path through the monastery that I fear leads to someone's unfortunate end. You're clearly not OK." 

Felix clenched his jaw. 

Sylvain's tone softened. "I know everyone else might think this is routine Felix, but I've known you our whole lives. I know the difference between 'normal' Felix mad and 'actual' Felix mad." 

"You are insufferable," Felix said between gritted teeth.

"I'm just trying to help."

"Then leave." 

The force of those two words would have scared off anyone else. But Sylvain, unfortunately, was not anyone else. He was, rather, the constant thorn in Felix's side, the ever-present pest he just couldn't shake. And so instead of running Sylvain put his hands on his hips and smiled. 

"No can do," he said. "We're going to town." 

"What?" Felix said.

Just then, Ingrid strode toward them, clearly too dignified to run as Sylvain had. 

"Finally!" Sylvain said. He ushered them all together, putting one arm over Ingrid's shoulders and the other over Felix's. He squeezed Felix closer. "So there's this bar in town. Good drinks. Cute servers. And--"

"Excuse me?"

"Just hush," Sylvain went on. "Ingrid agrees with me that it'll be good for you. So we're going."

"Good for me..." Felix felt his rage building, the crest within him stirring. 

"Shhh," Sylvain said. "Now just wait until you try the mead. Then you'll see."

"We are going to battle," Felix said. "This is not the time for--"

"Exactly!" Sylvain said. "We're going to fight the evil emperor and we all might die. But first, we're going to drink this mead and look at some pretty servers." 

_Why is this happening?_ Felix wondered as Sylvain started to steer him and Ingrid along. But even as he grumbled, he gave up fighting. He was simply too exhausted of the whole ordeal. And, to be honest, he could use a drink.

#

"This is torture," Ashe groaned.

"Get away from the window then," Annette said. 

But Ashe kept his forehead against the glass, watching as Sylvain slung an arm around Felix and led him away. What were they saying? Where were they going? Was Sylvain telling Felix about Ashe and Annette, as planned, or had it all gone to shit already? Ashe would have jumped from the window just to know.

Annette tugged at the back of his shirt, dragging him away and coaxing him to sit back down on the bed in her room. 

"You're being pathetic," she said. 

Ashe put his face in his hands. "Because I _am_ pathetic. Oh, this is all so wrong." 

Annette shook him by the shoulder. "Come on. You can't mope forever. Especially if we're all charging off to Enbarr soon." 

Enbarr. Ashe stifled a groan. How was he going to be of any use to his comrades like this? Annette was right to scold him. The battle to come would be the most difficult he'd ever faced, in more ways than one. He could well die, and cause others to die, by being this distracted. He had to pull it together.

"Wait, hold on. Maybe this will help," Annette said. She hastily unbraided her long orange hair, tossing it all up into a messy ponytail with a few stray strands hanging in her face. "Ashe," she said in a comical rasp, "I really, _really_ want you to study now." 

Ashe's face went bright red. "A--A--Annette!"

She laughed at his mortified reaction, actually holding her stomach and falling backward onto her bed. "I'm sorry, it's just so easy."

Ashe put his face in his hands. "You're the worst. The absolute worst."

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him while he continued hiding his face. "Say you forgive me." She gave him a quick peck on the side of the neck. 

Ashe felt goosebumps ripple over his skin. _"I've found your weakness, Ubert,"_ Felix said in his mind. Even the memory of that voice at his ear made him feel uncomfortably warm all over. Felix had certainly learned each and every way of exploiting that weakness since he'd first uttered those words. 

"Whoa, oh gosh, I didn't mean... I, uh..." Annette jerked back a little. 

Ashe gasped, his eyes going wide, when he realized that the memory had noticeably excited him. "Oh no. No, it's not what you're thinking. It's just..." 

"Geeze, it's only been a week," Annette said. "How often was he coming by?" 

Ashe dared not respond. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone multiple weeks without Felix cornering him, striping him hastily and frantically, and proceeding to...

He put his hands over his crotch. Every thought was just making it worse. His face burned. He thought he'd die of embarrassment before he got of this room. 

"You two are like rabbits," Annette said. But the next moment she swung her leg around him and suddenly Ashe found her in his lap, sitting right over his partially erect penis. 

"W--w--w--what are y--you--" he stammered.

Her hair was still up in that ridiculous ponytail. "Helping," she said. She leaned down and kissed him. Ashe's eyes went wide at first, but he soon found himself relaxing into the kiss. It was soft and sweet, like she'd thrown a warm blanket around him. 

She pulled away eventually and put a hand over her mouth. "Oh goddess. I... I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." 

"It... it was kind of nice," Ashe said. He put his hands around her hips. She felt so different from Felix, soft where he was taut all over, curving gently where he was harsh lines and planes. But different wasn't necessarily bad. 

Her cheeks turned rosy. "This is such a terrible idea."

"Just awful," he said, his voice already going breathy.

"One of our worst."

"Probably." 

"But goddess, it's been so long, for me at least. I didn't hate it, that time we tried it."

"I didn't either." 

"Oh no." 

That was the last thing she said before grasping the sides of his head and pulling him into another kiss. This one was harder. She jabbed her tongue into his mouth as though searching for something in there. 

Ashe pulled her closer, so her body pressed against his. He felt her small, firm breasts against his chest, her ass on his thighs. She rocked a little forward, rubbing against his cock as she did. 

And even though it was definitely, absolutely, positively a _fabulously_ catastrophic idea, Ashe slung her around onto the bed. Annette wrapped her legs around him as he groped at her chest. He'd touched tits before, but these felt just right in his hand, as though molded to fit him. She gasped as he played with them with one hand, using the other to feel the soft, smooth curve from rib to hip. Annette gripped his hair so hard it hurt just a little, but that only spurred him on. 

She wriggled free suddenly, flipping them over so that he now lay on his back with her over him. Her dress stood askew, most of the buttons down the middle open. She looked him up and down, mostly still clothed, but wearing just loose trousers and a linen shirt. Annette ran her hand down his chest, all the way to his waistband and finally to the bulge in his pants. 

Ashe's mouth opened in a gasp as she started rubbing. She seemed so sure, so unflinching. He started to rock against her hand, the sensation building up too much for him to remain still. 

She paused just at the edge and he fumbled with the laces of his pants as she hiked up her dress. Then she perched over him.

They remained there a moment, staring at each other's flushed faces. 

"This is so dumb," she said in a breathy whisper. 

"The worst," he agreed. 

But a moment later she lowered herself onto his cock. 

He arched, opening his mouth in a wordless cry. She put her hands on his chest as she started to grind. She was hot and wet and tight around him and Ashe finally let out the cry lodged in his throat. He licked a finger and reached for her pussy, rubbing the soft little nub at the top. She moaned in response. 

"Oh Ashe, oh, that's good." 

He rubbed more and she ground him harder, moving as far up and down the shaft as she could and rolling her hips with each stroke. Soon, she was moving too fast for him to touch her. He jerked up with his hips instead, meeting her rhythm, grabbing her hips to push deeper into that all-encompassing warmth within her. 

She bent forward and he wrapped his arms around her, wanting to feel her whole body against him as they ground into each other. He could feel her tightening, building toward release. Something in her squeezed and Ashe arched not just with his hips but his entire body. 

"I'm close," he moaned. 

"Oh goddess, me too, me too," she said. 

Annette grasped his hair. He clutched her against him. Then she shuddered, her whole body shaking, and he felt a rush of warmth.

He came along with her, moaning as the warmth spread up through him, too. They arched into each other, clutching and grasping and quivering as their bodies released. 

Ashe struggled to catch his breath. Annette lay limply atop him, the hand in his hair going slack. He felt her thighs shaking softly. 

They lay like that for a long moment, their ragged breaths the only sound breaking the stalemate. 

"Oh fuck," Annette finally said.

#

"You knew?" Felix said. "This whole time, you both knew?"

Ingrid and Sylvain sat across from him in the bar. Ingrid averted her eyes to study the floor; Sylvain merely shrugged.

"We've known you our whole lives," Sylvain said. "Did you really think we wouldn't notice when something finally cracked that ice block of a heart?"

Felix groaned and leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, elbows on the table. Surely Annette knew as well, what with her and Ashe skipping around arm in arm now. The situation was completely out of control and beyond repair. 

"If you knew, what was that whole show in the training room today?" he said.

"I wanted to see how you'd react," Sylvain said.

Felix could have strangled him for that.

"Oh come on," Sylvain said. "What the big deal?" 

Felix nearly shouted it out right there in the bar, but instead he grabbed the mug of ale Sylvain had insisted on ordering, gulping it down in one long chug. His childhood friends watched him from across the table with wide eyes. 

"Whoa," Sylvain said.

"Felix..." Ingrid said. 

Felix slammed the empty mug to the table. The ale was disgusting, but it spread a pleasant warmth through his whole body. A wave of dizziness from his rapid consumption made his head feel light before he crashed back down to his present predicament. He caught a server gaping at him, but just waved at the man to bring another. 

"Hey, Felix, so..." Sylvain said. 

"I'm fine," Felix said. 

"Clearly," Sylvain muttered. Felix glared and he hurried on. "But why not try talking to us, huh? I mean, that's what we're here for." 

Felix weighed the people sitting across from him at the table. He couldn't fathom Sylvain understanding. Sylvain didn't bother thinking about consequences, didn't consider the long-term impacts of anything he said or did. 

But Ingrid.

He met her gaze. She didn't push like Sylvain, simply waiting.

"It's just... complicated," Felix said. 

"What does that m--"

Ingrid put a hand on Sylvain's arm, stopping him. "I think we ought to leave it," she said. Her eyes never left Felix's and he saw that yes, if there was one person in the world who might understand, one person who didn't need him to blather on to explain, one person who knew exactly how he felt every time Ashe looked at him with those wide, earnest eyes and Felix had to push him away--if there was one person in all the universe who could relate, it was Ingrid.

"I'm so sorry, Felix," she said. Because she knew. She understood. 

A fresh ale arrived, breaking the tension. Felix resisted the urge to down it all in one go. 

Sylvain kept looking between the pair. "What is going on? What did he say? I'm so confused here."

"Let it go," Ingrid said, sharper this time. 

"What in seven hells just happened?" Sylvain said. "Come on, you can't just leave me in the dark. Did you two do some weird telepathy thing just now?" 

"Sylvain," Ingrid snapped. 

He put up his hands in defeat. But there the topic died, at least for the night. They talked about old times, when they were young and foolish, when they were children and Glenn was still alive and the world seemed simple and sensible. 

Felix lost track of how much ale and mead arrived. All he cared about was the light, floaty feeling it spread through his whole body. He couldn't hold onto thoughts for very long, and so even when a server with silver hair smiled at him while setting down his drink, the ache in his chest lasted only a moment. 

Still, Sylvain caught him. 

"Come on," he said, ushering both Felix and Ingrid to their feet. 

Felix had to hold on to Sylvain's shoulder for a moment after sitting for so long and drinking. Sylvain started moving Felix and Ingrid, an arm around both their waists. 

"What are you doing?" Felix said. 

"We're staying here tonight," Sylvain said. 

"What?" Ingrid and Felix said in unison. 

"OK, first," Sylvain said, "I already paid for the room. Second, it's good for him. He needs to get away for a night. If we let him slink back to his room he's just going to lay there and yank one out while mentally gazing into big green doe eyes."

Felix felt his face get hot. "T--"

"Shut up, you know I'm right," Sylvain said. 

Felix snapped his mouth shut, not caring to argue. Besides... Sylvain was indeed right. He was thinking about it already. 

But Sylvain kept leading him and Ingrid, up a flight of stairs and down a hall to an inn room. Sylvain nudged the door open with his foot. It was small, but that wasn't what made Ingrid and Felix stop short and stand up straighter. The room had only one bed.

"Oh no, Sylvain," Ingrid said. "I know how this goes. You did this on purpose. Absolutely not." 

"I didn't, I swear," Sylvain protested. "It's not like we planned any of this. This was the only room they had." 

"The _only_ room?" Ingrid said.

"Well, there might have been a couple others, but..."

Felix moved away from Sylvain's grasp. He kicked off his boots and loosened his jacket, tossing it aside. "Whatever," he said. "I don't care. Keep your hands to yourself." He fell face first onto the bed, neither knowing nor caring how his companions reacted. Sylvain had flirted with him, and anyone else with a pulse, for their entire lives. This wasn't even the most ridiculous manifestation of the man's constant hounding. 

He felt the bed shift when the pair settled on either side of him. Shoes and belts hit the floor. The bed was so small it forced their bodies against each other when they all laid down. 

"This is weird," Ingrid muttered.

"It's only weird if you talk about it being weird," Sylvain said. "Besides, you've shared a bed with me before."

Felix, his face still in the mattress, could feel a wave of heat come from Ingrid's side. "T--that was--Don't you dare!"

"Goddess, you two are so easy to tease," Sylvain said. Felix felt the bed shift and then Sylvain was leaning over him, presumably to get closer to Ingrid. "I always ask permission," he said, and Felix could practically hear the wink in his voice. 

Felix hated this, hated listening to them flirt nearly on top of him while all he could think about was the server's silver hair from earlier. Ingrid kept sniping at Sylvain, who only laughed and egged her on further. Finally, Felix could take no more.

He flipped around to lay on his back and face them. Sylvain was hunched over him; Ingrid was sitting up at his side. They both froze at Felix's rapid movement. 

"I should leave," he said. "I'm in your way."

Ingrid turned bright red at that, but Sylvain looked crushed. He leaned back and Felix sat up. Sylvain grabbed his arm before he could escape, though. "Wait, hold on, you're not in anyone's way. OK, I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes," Sylvain insisted. "Felix, seriously, I want you to stay."

"Why?"

"It's good for you." 

But there was more. Felix could see it all over Sylvain's face. A reckless idea flitted through his mind, a truly disastrous, stupid idea. But just for a moment, Felix entertained it. It swept aside the ache in his chest, brushed away the thought of silver hair, of big green eyes, of freckles blotted out by blushing. 

Sylvain moved with shocking speed, leaning forward and grabbing his ponytail to pull him into a kiss. It was rough and assertive. Sylvain gripped Felix's hair harder than he needed to, taking the kiss as deep as it would go. It was wholly unlike--

"Wow." 

They broke apart to find Ingrid gaping at them. She put her hands over her mouth when they noticed her. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to--"

Sylvain just smirked and pulled her to him by the front of her shirt. He leaned over Felix to kiss Ingrid, leaving Felix sitting back watching his friends make out practically in his lap. Maybe it was the booze talking, but it wasn't exactly hard to look at. Ingrid's long braid fell over her shoulder and Felix found himself wondering what it would look like if it were set loose. 

He reached--strangely impulsive, trying not to think, not to care--and tugged the tie around the braid until it came away and Ingrid's hair fell free.

Sylvain and Ingrid broke apart and looked at him. They were both flushed now and Felix felt his own face get hot as they looked at him with hunger in their eyes. He swallowed, a mixture of fear and want churning in his stomach. Goddess help him, but he just wanted to feel better, just wanted to stop thinking for a single night. Wanted it so badly that he found himself drawing Ingrid's lips to his own as he tugged Sylvain closer. 

Sylvain needed little further encouragement. Even as Felix kissed Ingrid, tasting the sweetness of the mead on her lips, Sylvain kissed and sucked at his neck. Sylvain's hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, unbuttoning Felix's shirt, running down his chest, grabbing his hair, teasing a nipple.

Felix gasped, loosing track of Ingrid as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Goddess, Sylvain really did know what he was doing. Felix gripped his shoulders as Sylvain's mouth and hands roamed Felix's chest, teasing, tickling, biting, sucking. He grasped Sylvain's hair, pulling harder than he ought, but Sylvain just let out a gleeful whimper and kept going. 

He opened his eyes for a moment and saw Ingrid watching the display avidly, one hand over her mouth and the other on her own breast, fondling it. She chewed on her fingers, breathing hard. 

Sylvain stopped, but just long enough to get Felix's shirt off him and onto the floor. 

"Merciful goddess," Ingrid breathed, sizing up Felix's bare torso. 

Sylvain smiled, apparently proud of what he'd created in this inn room, and coaxed Ingrid forward. She was much more hesitant than Sylvain had been. 

"Is it OK if I--"

Felix pulled her the rest of the way, onto his lap, her breasts against his chest, though she still wore a dress. Sylvain helped get it off her as she sat on Felix, running her hands over his shoulders and chest. Sylvain got rid of his own shirt last, positioning himself behind Ingrid. He started kissing her neck, his hands sneaking around to grope her tits. She tilted her head back, breathing hard and writhing on Felix's lap, grinding against his cock. Felix could do little more than hold her hips and watch. And truly, it was a sight to behold. Even flushed and panting, he could see the strength in Ingrid's arms, could feel it in her grip on his shoulders and her thighs pressed against him.

Sylvain glanced up from Ingrid's neck to meet Felix's gaze. His eyes shone with mischief. He scooted closer, forcing Ingrid nearer to Felix. Sylvain reached past her to grip Felix by the hair and kiss him roughly. Ingrid pressed between them, gasping as one of Sylvain's hands reached down to her pussy. 

Felix could feel both of them at his crotch now, Ingrid grinding as Sylvain played with her, Sylvain positioning his hand so it rubbed both her clit and his cock. She was getting wetter and wetter atop him; he could feel it through their small clothes. But Sylvain, like a conductor leading an orchestra, kept them all away from the edge, forcing the tension to build. Felix thought he might die in agonizing ecstasy before finding the peak Sylvain was searching for tonight.

Sylvain leaned back, withdrawing his hand. Ingrid whimpered. He scooted away, actually getting off the bed, then shed the last of his clothing right before them as casually as he would remove a hat. 

Ingrid still sat on Felix, her hands on his shoulders. They both gaped at Sylvain, tall and broad-shouldered, muscled and scarred and so unlike their childhood friend. 

He returned to the bed with a small container in one hand. Sylvain eased Ingrid and Felix out of the rest of their clothes, gently coaxing, kissing and licking as he went to keep them all aroused, though Felix couldn't fathom going flaccid in a situation like this. 

Sylvain opened the lube and started rubbing it on Felix's cock. His grip pulsed, making Felix draw in a sharp breath. 

Sylvain crawled on his hands and knees toward Felix, even with Ingrid still sitting on him. "I want you to do it, Felix," he said. "I want you to fuck me. Is that OK?"

"Holy mother fuck," Ingrid blurted out. She immediately put a hand over her mouth after the outburst.

Felix nodded. He did not trust himself to speak just then.

Sylvain lay back on the bed. He reached for Ingrid. She took his hand as though in a daze and he pulled her to his face, burying his tongue in her pussy. 

Felix rubbed lube on his fingers as Ingrid moaned. Then he spread more around Sylvain's ass. The man groaned in response, moving his hips to meet Felix's hand. Felix went in with fingers first, watching how Sylvain writhed, rolling his hips. The fiend had actually prepared for just this scenario. Felix used his other hand to stroke Sylvain's cock. He could hear Sylvain panting now, even with Ingrid sitting on his face. 

"Yeah," Sylvain said. "Fuck yes. Keep going." 

It was not the voice Felix wished he was hearing or the body he wished he was touching or the bedmate he wished he had this night, but fuck if Felix wasn't twitching as he watched his childhood friends writhe and moan in their pleasure. 

"Goddess, do it, Felix," Sylvain moaned. 

Yet even in his throes, Sylvain took a moment to to turn Ingrid around. 

"Oh shit," she said, eyes going wide as she watched Felix enter Sylvain. 

Felix went in slowly, letting Sylvain encourage him deeper with his hips. Meanwhile, Sylvain licked at Ingrid, even using a hand to rub at her clit. She arched and cried out, her eyes never leaving the scene before her. 

Felix leaned forward as he went deeper. Sylvain shuddered, hips bucking. Goddess, the man wanted it. He really was as insatiable as his reputation suggested. 

They all began to collapse toward each other. Felix hunched over Sylvain as he thrust into him. Sylvain arched up, pulling Ingrid's hips closer to his face. Ingrid moaned, putting a hand on Felix's back, her nails biting into his skin. 

She came first, raking her nails across Felix's back as she alternately praised and cursed the goddess. She shook, holding Felix's shoulders even as he kept moving. 

They paused just long enough for Ingrid to move to the side, but she did not go far. She sat at the edge of the bed, hugging herself as she watched Felix and Sylvain.

Felix repositioned, finding a better angle now. Sylvain grabbed him by the hair. Something between a groan and a growl issued from Felix when Sylvain had him by the hair again. He gripped the other man's hips and pushed into him. Sylvain arched up, gasping.

"Yeah," Sylvain said. "Fuck yes." 

Felix closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensation of being inside Sylvain. His forehead was against the other man's chest. He panted with each thrust, pulling at Sylvain's hips to somehow get deeper. The other man bucked beneath him, rolling his body in a way that sent shock waves of pleasure through both of them.

"Cum on me," Sylvain moaned.

"What the fuck?" Felix said.

"Please. Just do it. Please." 

Felix cursed, but pulled himself out just in time. Cum sputtered over Sylvain's torso. The other man came an instant later, arching, nearly yelling as his orgasm hit. 

Felix perched over Sylvain on all fours, panting, much of his hair hanging loose over his face. Sylvain's eyes were still closed as he quivered, breathing hard, a smile curling his mouth. 

"Wow..."

They both looked over at Ingrid, one hand on her own breast, the other fondling her clit. She blinked as though coming back to her senses. 

"I--I--" she stammered. She jumped off the bed, rushing around looking for a towel and the water basin. "We should clean ourselves up." 

Felix sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ingrid tapped him gently on the shoulder, presenting him with a clean cloth. He accepted it wordlessly. She smiled at him, but her eyes lingered, searching his. He knew she was looking for wounds, for the particular sort of pain they shared. 

He didn't know if she found it, but she squeezed his shoulder and withdrew, bringing Sylvain a rag. 

Sylvain, for his part, seemed oblivious to all pain and suffering. He even seemed reluctant to clean himself up, though he eventually did it. 

"That was... incredible!" he said. "Wow. Felix. Ingrid. You might not guess looking at you both, but--"

Ingrid put a finger against his lips and shook her head. Felix could have kissed her, gratefully, this time. As it was, he just tossed the bed sheets aside and settled in on his side.

His friends slipped under the covers at either side, Ingrid facing him, Sylvain at his back. Sylvain rested his forehead against Felix's back, draping an arm over his hips, and was soon snoring. 

Felix and Ingrid did not sleep so quickly, or so easily. She took his hands in hers as they lay facing each other, their foreheads touching and hearts aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let he who has never been the Ingrid cast the first stone.
> 
> OK, that's it! I promise. We survived. Back to that good, good Ashelix next time (even though I'm kinda into this trio...). 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)!
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	5. The Battle of Enbarr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come to take Enbarr. But the Blue Lions are in disarray while they try to prepare for the battle. Ashe is hiding from an awkward conversation with Annette while Felix berates the suddenly smitten Sylvain constantly at his heels. Dimitri and Byleth have quite the task ahead as they try to get their forces prepared for the decisive battle of the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've held onto this chapter too long, so here you go! Have a tender fuck and lots of angst, friends. 
> 
> Also, baaaaattle sceeeeene. Fun fact: These types of fantasy battle scenes are way more my wheelhouse than the smut I've been churning out lately. So consider the end of the chapter a little comfort food for purple_bookcover. (Also, mild warning for graphic violence in the battle scene. Not heavy, heavy detail there, but it is a war.)
> 
> SPOILERS: If you haven't finished the game, specifically the Blue Lions route, you are about to get spoilers for the end of that story arc.

Two weeks never felt so long. 

Ashe tried to keep his head down and study (alone) or train (also mostly alone). He and Annette gave each other more space than usual, silently agreeing to never speak of what had happened in her room. 

Ashe hated it. He hated the artificial distance, hated feeling so far away from his best friend in the world, hated being so utterly _alone_ with the prospect of Enbarr hanging over him like a stormcloud. 

Felix certainly didn't make things any easier. The man would not so much as meet his eyes, let alone speak to him. Ashe could almost forgive him, what with Sylvain constantly nipping at Felix's heels like a hungry pet. Felix let loose on him more than once, berating him in the training yard, the dining hall, even the war room in front of everyone. 

Morale among the Blue Lions could not have been worse. Even Ingrid, stalwart, hard-working Ingrid, seemed in a foul mood most of the time. 

Ashe retreated to the library after only a few days of this. At least there the isolation seemed normal. The quiet felt natural and unforced rather than tense and potentially explosive. 

Ashe paced the dusty shelves, running a hand over the books that still remained to the monastery. No one had bothered to tend the tomes in the five years since the attack; even when they'd returned, few had cared about restoring the library. Ashe had undertaken much of the work on his own, sorting any books he could find in the rubble. 

He found himself among the fairy tales this day, a place that had always brought him comfort. As he was wiping the dust off the spine of a particular old favorite, the door of the library creaked open. Ashe peeked between the shelves, afraid of what he might find. 

Annette startled, immediately trying to duck away.

"Wait," Ashe called. "Please wait." 

She paused, hiding behind the open door. When Ashe peered around it, she was practically crouching. 

"Annette," he said, "please come talk to me." 

She looked up, sheepish. "You don't hate me?" 

He blinked. "Hate you? Of course not." 

She flew around the door, nearly knocking him over when she wrapped her arms around him for a suffocating hug. Annette spoke into his chest, her face buried against his jacket. "Oh Ashe! I was so scared you hated me ever since... Oh goddess, I'm so sorry. What was I thinking? Oh please don't tell me we can't be friends anymore."

He took her by the shoulders and pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. Her cheeks were damp. "I don't hate you," he said. "I never did. I thought you were embarrassed and I didn't want to push. Honestly, I thought you might hate me." 

She shook her head. "Of course not! I just kept thinking you must regret it and it was me who started it and what if I'd made you do something you didn't really want to do?"

He smiled, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I don't regret it."

"Really?"

"Really," he said. "It was just a moment. A nice moment, actually. I'd only regret it if it meant we weren't still friends." 

Her lip quivered. She hugged him close, less frantically this time. He felt her crying against his chest as he stroked her hair. "Oh Ashe, let's never not be friends." 

"Of course," he said. 

She pulled away to look up at him. "Will you come to my room for some tea? We have _so_ much to talk about."

"I'd love that," he said.

"Good!" She took him by the hand, dragging him from the library. "OK, first of all, what in all the heavens happened between Sylvain and Felix? Sylvain looks like he'd lick Felix's boots clean and thank him for the pleasure if Felix so much as glanced at him. Second..." 

Ashe laughed, letting her pull him along. At least there was one thing in the world that hadn't fallen apart quite yet.

#

Mending the awkwardness with Annette felt like loosening a vice he hadn't realized had been tightening around his chest. Ashe breathed easier, even with the battle approaching. He and Annette even spent some time training together, different as their disciplines may be. They at least had riding in common, so they focused on improving their horsemanship before they'd need it for Enbarr.

But the trio was still out of sorts. 

Dimitri and Byleth grew less patient with Felix's outbursts, Sylvain's antics and Ingrid's brooding as the days wore on. 

Ashe accidentally caught Dimitri dressing them down in the war room after yet another tense strategy meeting full of snapping and snarling. Ashe had dispersed quickly after the meeting, hoping to escape the awkward atmosphere, only to realize he'd left his jacket behind in his haste. 

Thus, the former thief found himself paused outside the door to the war room, listening to the voices shouting from within.

"--completely unacceptable. Do any of you appreciate the situation we're facing?" That was Dimitri, his voice at full volume. 

"I've done nothing but try to prepare," Felix shouted back. 

"You've done nothing but interrupt meetings and training with your yelling," Dimitri said. 

"Because he's like a dog at my heels," Felix snapped.

"Hey," Sylvain said, but Dimitri and Felix ignored him. 

"We need you to be focused," Dimitri said. "All of you. This isn't a game."

"It seems to be one for you, you enjoy it so," Felix said. 

"You think I enjoy this?" Dimitri's tone took on a dangerous edge.

"Yes," Felix said. 

There was a scuffle. Then Ashe heard Ingrid. "Stop it! Stop. Both of you. Let go. Felix! Let him go." 

A silence so thick Ashe could taste it fell. He heard footsteps and dodged aside just before the door slammed open. Dimitri did not even seem to see him before he stomped away down the hall. 

Ashe remained frozen against the wall, wishing he could melt into the stone before anyone else stormed out of the war room.

"This has to stop," Ingrid was saying. "Felix, find some way to control your temper. Sylvain." She sighed. "Grow up." 

"I'm not the one blowing up meetings and training sessions," Sylvain said. "Why are you acting like nothing happened between us?" 

"It was once," Felix gritted out. 

"And it was incredible." Ashe could hear the longing in Sylvain's voice. "Look, I know you have all  
these hang ups over your little archer--"

"Don't."

"But you don't have to worry about any of that shit with me." 

"I said, _don't_."

"I'm just saying, no one is going to push around House Gautier if they don't agree. I'm not a commone--"

Ashe heard a chair topple over, then a shriek and a dull thud. 

"Get off him," Ingrid shrieked. "Felix, get off him. He can't breathe." 

"No," Felix growled. "He's going to understand this and he's going to understand it well."

Ashe heard a gasping breath, probably Sylvain. Felix's voice lowered. Even from outside the room, it sent a chill through Ashe. 

"You," Felix said, "were a mistake. It was a mistake." 

"You're a bastard," Sylvain choked out. 

"Fine," Felix said. But he must have relented because Ashe heard Sylvain wheeze for breath and get back to his feet. Ashe pressed back against the wall as footsteps approached.

They stopped just before the doors.

"Ashe deserves better than your shit, Felix," Sylvain said. "Even I deserve better than your shit."

Ingrid had an arm around Sylvain when they emerged from the war room. Sylvain was rubbing his neck. He pointedly did not look at Ashe. 

Ingrid caught his eyes, however, regarding him for a long moment. Ashe stayed against the wall and swallowed hard. 

"Good luck," she said and dragged Sylvain off. 

Ashe remained against the cool stone for a few more moments, trying to make sense of all he'd heard. His hands shook when he finally moved toward the war room. 

Felix stood at the far end of the room, his palms on the table and shoulders hunched. One chair still lay on the floor. Ashe stepped as quietly as possible, nearly making it to his jacket before Felix finally heard him and his head snapped up. 

Ashe froze, his hand outstretched for his jacket. From across the table, Felix's eyes could have carved through mountains. 

"I... forgot my jacket," Ashe said, his voice sounding pathetically small even to his own ears. 

Felix's face relaxed, just a little. "I thought you were someone else. Someone more annoying." 

"So I'm still a little annoying then?"

"No... that's not what I..." 

"I was kidding." 

Felix looked like he could spit acid. 

"Sorry," Ashe said. He retrieved his jacket, hugging it against him, and started to back away.

"Wait," Felix said. "If... if you want." 

"OK," Ashe said, jacket still clutched at his chest. He felt rooted to the floor. 

Felix scowled as he searched helplessly for words. Finally, he shoved himself away from the table. 

Ashe struggled to stay put as Felix strode up to him. Even eye-to-eye, Ashe felt terribly small with Felix glaring at him. His eyes softened; Ashe could see his face giving way to something else, something far more like... shame. 

"I'm sorry," Felix said between clenched teeth. 

Ashe could only blink. 

"Last time we... Last time I saw you... I called you a whore. That was unfair. I'm sorry." 

"Oh," Ashe said. 

Felix was staring down at his feet. 

"Thank you for saying that," Ashe said. 

They held still. It felt to Ashe like balancing on a seesaw. If either of them moved, they'd both fall. 

"You know," Ashe tried, "if there's some way I could help, even if it meant... If there's some way I could help you, I would." 

"I know," Felix said, still studying the floor. 

"So," Ashe said, "can I help?" 

Felix shook his head. 

"Why not?"

Felix finally looked up. The anger was gone now, but the mixture of frustration and pain replacing it was far, far worse. "There are forces neither of us have any control over." 

"We could try."

But Felix just shook his head. 

Ashe attempted what he hoped was an easier topic. "Did something happen with Sylvain?"

"It was a mistake," Felix said. "He and Ingrid took me to a bar to forget about... to relax." Felix shrugged rather than finish the story.

Ashe bit his lip. He wanted to push more, to ask about the scuffle he'd heard just moments earlier, to explore Sylvain's strange comments. But Felix looked like he'd rather chew through iron than talk about it.

Felix was shaking his head, but Ashe saw him glance surreptitiously at the lip he'd been biting. The silence that fell as they faced each other, both guessing the other's thoughts, could have crushed stones into dust. Ashe felt his chest get tight. He backed up, but soon met the wall. 

Felix regarded him for a moment, strangely hesitant. Finally, he followed and, goddess save him, but Ashe loved just watching him move, loved observing the swordsman's sinewy body when he stepped toward him with a purpose.

Ashe clung to his jacket and tried to breathe. Felix put a hand against the wall beside his head, amber eyes making heat ripple through Ashe's body. 

"Wait," Ashe said. 

Felix held still. Nothing changed about his face or body, yet Ashe could feel the force of his presence pressing against him like a physical weight. It was intoxicating and Ashe nearly lost his nerve.

He forced a deep breath. "I can't do this if you're going to hate me for it after." 

"I won't hate you," Felix said. 

"Hating yourself instead doesn't make it any better." 

Felix leaned in, so close their chests touched and oh, it was good to feel that body against him again. When Felix spoke, Ashe could feel his words puff against his ear. "There's no fixing that, Ubert." 

Then Felix's lips were on his neck, sending a shiver through his whole body, and his hand was in Ashe's hair, tilting his head back, exposing that stretch of "weakness" Felix so loved to exploit. Ashe arched against the wall; it felt like the only thing keeping him standing in that moment. Felix tugged the jacket out of his grasp and threw it aside. Then his hands roved down Ashe's back, pulling their bodies together. Ashe clung to his shoulders, gasping as Felix nipped at his collar. 

Ashe reached for Felix's hair, but did not pull, coaxing him up to his lips. He sighed as Felix kissed him. Goddess, how he'd missed this taste, this smell of leather, this taut body pushed against his and consuming every sense. He held the sides of Felix's head, willing the kiss to lengthen, and soaked in every sweet detail.

Felix seemed to do the same. He stayed close to Ashe, not grasping hungrily, but savoring and lingering. Ashe could feel how much Felix held back, not clawing at his clothes, but rather just allowing the kiss to go on, his hands on the small of Ashe's back but wandering no lower.

They finally broke apart, flushed and breathless. 

Felix brushed Ashe's hair gently off his face, running his finger down his cheek and along his jaw. "Don't die in Enbarr," he said. "If things get bad, swear to me you'll retreat."

"I couldn't leave everyone," Ashe said.

"Please," Felix said, and Ashe heard a desperation he'd never believed Felix capable of. "Swear to me. I'll tell you everything, just don't die out there."

Felix searched his face, but Ashe couldn't bring himself to lie. "I can't promise that." 

A flicker of pain flashed in Felix's eyes. "Then I'll protect you." 

"We'll protect each other," Ashe said. "And all the others. We'll all come back." 

"I hope you're right," Felix said. He kissed Ashe again, almost gingerly. Ashe could have cried at the rawness of that kiss, the exposed, tender ache of it. But instead he pulled Felix against him, reaching under jackets and tunics for bare skin. Felix sighed as Ashe's hands found his back. 

Ashe wished they could stay like this. He felt some of the tension in Felix's back unknot and yearned for a way to preserve this moment. Yet he knew it was fleeting and that soon they'd all be outfitted for war and charging into danger. 

Felix's hand wandered down Ashe's body, interrupting his thoughts. He teased at the waistband of Ashe's pants for a moment before roaming lower, to the bulge just beginning to burgeon. 

"Mmm." It was all Ashe could manage with Felix's mouth on his, but he couldn't remain silent as the other man started to rub. Even through his pants, Ashe could feel the strength of Felix's hand, the rough, careful pressure quickly making him hard. Ashe could hardly maintain the kiss any longer as his mouth opened wider to let out little sounds of pleasure. 

Felix broke away and for a terrifying moment Ashe feared he'd run. His cheeks were flushed, his dark hair disheveled and falling over his face. He looked ready to either bolt or tear Ashe's clothes from his body. Ashe trembled with eagerness and trepidation, fearing he'd found Felix again only to chase him off immediately. 

Then Felix Hugo Fraldarius got down on his knees. 

Ashe swallowed hard. Surely, this was some dream or delusion, some deliciously perfect fantasy. Ashe's head swirled with vertigo as he tried to contend with the reality of having Felix on his knees, his hands tugging at his waistband. 

Felix lowered Ashe's pants enough to expose his hips, then his mouth and tongue found the soft space beside the bone. Meanwhile, his hand continued to rub over the cloth-covered bulge. 

Ashe's breathing turned ragged. Felix worked at the pants even as his tongue tantalized soft, sensitive skin. Ashe only realized he was exposed when he felt Felix's bare hand against his cock. Felix's mouth meandered across Ashe's abdomen until it met his hand. Then hand and mouth worked in tandem, Felix's tongue teasing the head of Ashe's cock as his hand ran up the shaft. 

Ashe's legs tried to buckle. He gasped, pushing against the wall to stay standing. Felix's free hand found his hip and gripped, holding him in place, forcing him to endure as the pleasure tried to overwhelm him. 

Felix paused, leaving Ashe aching with want. With _need_. Because, goddess save him, he needed this man so, so badly. 

For an agonizing moment, Felix merely looked up at him, toying with him, letting the desire stretch nearly into pain. Then he put Ashe's length into his mouth, keeping a hand at the base as he ran his lips down the shaft. 

Ashe squirmed, reaching for the hand at his hip, the wall, anything solid. He found Felix's arm with one hand and his hair with the other. He could feel Felix's head bobbing up and down as he worked Ashe's cock with lips and tongue and hand. 

Ashe's breaths turned to moans. He couldn't hold back the sound any longer as pleasure wracked his body. He wanted to scream with it, wanted to give in completely and collapse, but Felix kept him from overflowing, dancing along the edge of what Ashe could endure. The intoxicating ecstasy of it made Ashe feel like he was floating out of his body, anchored to reality only by the sensation of Felix's mouth gripping him. 

Felix made a small, contended sound. Ashe felt the swordsman's voice vibrate through him, sending a shiver up through his chest. Goddess, he was loving it. Felix Hugo Fraldarius was on his knees sucking Ashe's cock and he was _loving_ it. 

Ashe forced his eyes open. He wanted to capture this moment and sear it into every sense before time or war or the world could take it from him. 

He found Felix staring up at him, even as he continued licking and sucking. Those amber eyes bore straight into him, burning and bright. They seemed to take up the whole world for a moment, the only thing Ashe could be sure was real and true in that instant.

Felix squeezed with his hand and this time Ashe really did think he might collapse. He cried out and felt his knees give, but Felix kept him against the wall with one hand. 

"Oh Felix," he moaned. "I..." 

He did not know how he meant to finish that sentence. He did not think he'd have a chance. It was starting to become too much. He clutched Felix's hair so hard the other man moaned, the reverberations rippling through Ashe's body. His back arched, even with Felix's hand at his hip. He started pushing his hips at Felix as the other man gripped him, moving his mouth faster and squeezing his lips tighter. 

Felix let him roll his hips now, moving his hand to Ashe's ass to encourage him. Ashe felt himself twitching, even as pleasure blotted out every other sensation. He knew he was moaning and whining, but his own voice felt far away and detached. Only Felix was solid and real, Felix's mouth on his cock, Felix's hands on his body, Felix's voice reverberating beneath his skin and in his chest. Felix, kneeling at his feet with those amber eyes burning up at him. 

Ashe lost control then. The orgasm hit before Ashe could issue any warning, striking like a lightning bolt, making him cry out and buck, even as Felix gripped tighter, keeping his mouth in place. Ashe hunched over, clinging to Felix for stability, until finally his body could release no more and he was left quivering and boneless. 

Felix eased off his cock, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood before Ashe could collect himself and apologize, spinning Ashe around toward the wall. 

Ashe found himself face first against the wall as Felix pressed against his back. Felix wrapped an arm around Ashe's middle, using the other to pull Ashe's hips back against him. It was then Ashe felt how hard Felix was--hard from _blowing him_, Ashe realized.

Felix ground against him, lowering both their pants so he could rub his cock against Ashe's ass. He panted, breath blowing hot at Ashe's ear. Ashe put his hands against the wall, pushing back as Felix thrust. 

Felix did not last long, squeezing Ashe against him as he came. Yet even after the release ended, cum warm on Ashe's back, Felix did not let him go, keeping his arms around Ashe's waist. He rested his forehead on Ashe's shoulder, his breath a hot tickle. Felix hugged the other man against him as though afraid he'd disappear the moment he let go. 

"Please don't die," he said against Ashe's back, still panting. "Please. They all die." 

Ashe did not reply, simply placed a hand over Felix's. He tipped his head back and Felix nuzzled at his neck, breathing deeply against him. They remained that way as long as they dared, indulging in each other's comfort for a sweet, fleeting moment.

#

Ashe found Ingrid waiting outside when he finally left the war room that day. She stood at the far end of the hall, her back to him, a silent sentry. He caught her eye as he passed, but her stony expression did not flinch.

That was the last anyone made of the situation as Ashe, and the rest of the Blue Lions, focused on training and preparation. Even Sylvain sobered up as the battle in Enbarr approached, though Ashe feared that was simply out of anger at Felix. For his part, Felix seemed indifferent to anyone's hatred, or longing, toward him. For although Ashe might have yearned for a comforting presence during the anxious nights imagining the battle to come, Felix never knocked at his door. 

The time to set off for Enbarr arrived too quickly. Byleth and Dimitri marched them out of Garreg Mach and south to the gates of the city. 

Enbarr sprawled out before the army from the monastery, ringed by a stone wall punctuated with watch towers. From high atop a hill, Ashe could see the ballistas already set up, the archers pacing the walls, the mages stationed on rooftops. Edelgard was ready for them. 

The morning of the battle, Dimitri took Ashe aside. 

"She's better prepared than we'd hoped," Dimitri said. "You and Annette need to focus on the ballistas."

"Understood," Ashe said.

"Good," Dimitri said. "It won't be an easy task. Their range is going to be better than ours. We'll get you as close as we can, but as soon as you start firing you'll be their target. They want to keep those things shooting at us as long as they can." 

"I'm ready," Ashe said. Something about saying it out loud made Ashe feel like it was really so. The anxiety that had churned his stomach for days dissolved; he felt steadier now than at any other point before the battle. 

Dimitri narrowed his one good eye. Ashe could see the madness behind it, the terrible eagerness. But he'd sworn to follow the man into battle. He wouldn't let his king down.

Dimitri moved on, issuing specific orders to some of the others. In his full armor, he was a towering figure, broad and tall and clanging with each step. His black armor caught the red of the rising sun and gleamed. 

Ashe shifted in his own armor. It wasn't nearly as heavy as Dimitri's, which made the king's warning all the more dire. But Ashe would need to stay mobile in order to do his work. 

It was remarkable how utterly ordinary the rest of the morning seemed. He ate with Annette, looked after his horse, prepared his bows and quivers. It might have been any other day until they lined up atop the hill. Then, the silence that stretched between the forces from Garreg Mach and the city waiting to be under siege was like an enormous held breath. 

Dimitri broke the quiet. He did not offer them inspiring words. Rather, he raised Areadbhar and screamed, howling at the city and its emperor.

Dimitri charged without so much as turning back to look at his own troops. For a moment, he was a flash of black and blue, shouting at the top of his lungs and barreling alone toward Enbarr. 

Then Byleth waved at the rest of the gathered forces and they rushed down the hill, trying to catch their mad king. 

Ashe and the other archers sent a volley of arrows skyward ahead of them, darkening the red morning before the deadly cloud fell and the screaming began in earnest. Annette and her mages followed up, hurling magic ahead of Dimitri and the others. Together, they tried to clear a path for the close-range fighters streaming toward Enbarr like a tidal wave. 

They crashed against the walls and gates and the carnage began. Ashe, Annette and the other ranged fighters hurried to catch up, but they couldn't fire to clear the way anymore. Troops from both sides became entangled, blue meeting red in a chaotic swirl. 

That's when the ballistas started firing, seemingly heedless of allies or enemies. Magic and stone soared over the walls of the city and into the tumult, inflicting causalities on both sides of the battlelines. 

Ashe couldn't help searching for Felix among the fray. He spotted the swordsman near the front, cutting through red-uniformed mages, carving a path toward the gates of Enbarr. He clearly wasn't thinking of ballistas, or anything else but the enemies before him. Ashe saw a boulder land near him, flakes of stone shattering off the rock and striking him. Felix was thrown off balance for a moment and enemies encroached. Before they could take advantage of the stumble bolts of thoron sliced through their bodies and they collapsed. Undeterred, Felix pressed on.

Ashe searched for Annette and found her and her battalions far to the side, blasting through a group of enemies trying to flank their forces.

He grit his teeth. It would be up to him alone then. He charged into the fray, picking off enemies at close range from atop his horse. Dimitri was screaming at him, waving him forward, pointing with his spear. 

The gates to Enbarr barely clung to their hinges. Ashe rushed through and found himself within the city. If he hadn't known about the battle, he might have thought it was any other city. Stone streets cut neat rows among homes and shops. Bridges arched over the waterways winding between the pathways. The palace spread across the horizon far to the south, its spires and turrets piercing the sky. 

But Ashe didn't have time for admiration. Already, the enemy had begun to notice him. A handful of troops rushed down the street at him. He shot one through the neck as he ran, but his comrades trampled his body and kept charging. 

He saw a blur of motion as Sylvain and Ingrid burst past him. Their spears arced down. In an instant, they cut through the small troop. 

"Go," Ingrid called. 

Ashe kicked his horse onward. Even as the animal ran, he readied his body, placing an arrow against the string of his bow. Ahead lay one of the ballistas harrying his comrades. They hadn't yet noticed him. Ashe pulled his hand back to his cheek, leveling his arrow. The moment he let it fly he had another in his hand, but already the woman at the ballista was falling away, an arrow through her chest. 

Ashe caught two more soldiers trying to man the ballista before they finally gave up on the artillery. Sylvain and Ingrid rushed into position, free now to hack away at the troops in the area. 

Ashe searched for the next ballista, dispatching anyone trying to arm it. This time it was mages, but they fared no better against his deadly aim. 

Finally, Enbarr's defenders took note of him. A sparking ball of purple whizzed past him, spooking his horse. More magic flew in his direction. 

Ashe jerked his horse's reins, forcing it toward the danger. It was the last ballista, heavily manned now that they knew that was his target. Most of his comrades were fighting at the other two ballistas. Ashe would be alone trying to take this one.

Still, he rushed at it. If he could just take down this last station the way would be clear. Dimitri and Felix could do what they did best, clearing a path all the way to the palace and Edelgard. 

Ashe rose in his saddle, lining up the shot. He felt heat sear his arm as magic buzzed by. He only needed a little more, just a few more steps. But just when he reached his range, something struck his horse. It screamed, canting forward. Ashe had only an instant. He let the arrow fly, even as he careened forward and onto the hard paving stones of the street. 

The ground struck him, jolting his bow out of his hands. He rolled, hitting a building. Ashe used the wall to struggle back to his feet. Blood ran down an arm. He could taste it in his mouth as well. Disregarding the pain, he ran for his bow, only a few steps away. Magic flashed past. _They've already manned it again,_ he realized. He clenched his jaw. His work wasn't done yet. He had to keep going. 

Ashe scooped his bow off the ground, an arrow nocked before he even straightened to find his target. A troop of mages faced him, several readying magic. He took out the one manning the ballista, but another replaced him immediately. Ashe had a second arrow ready, but the mages' magic had grown in their hands. He'd only have time for this last arrow. And then? And then, likely, nothing at all. 

"I'm sorry, Felix," he whispered. 

Then he let the arrow fly. 

He did not see if it struck home. Streams of magic zipped toward him. Ashe was thrown back by the force of the magics, then all the world was blinding, searing pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)!
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	6. The Duke of Fraldarius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix sees Ashe fall during the battle of Enbarr and rushes in to help. But he may already be too late...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hurts me. Uh... sorry? 
> 
> SPOILERS: As ever, if you haven't finished BL route you probably want to avoid this. I'm going to the end of that story and beyond it now, so most of this is just vague references to the official plot.

Even in the midst of battle, Felix heard the scream.

It pierced through the cacophony of weapons clashing, horses crying, soldiers dying. It struck harder than any physical blow and Felix stuttered, suddenly off balance. 

He followed the sound and saw Ashe, alone, separated from his allies. His arrow flew even as gouts of magic struck him, sending him skidding across the paving stones. The mage at the ballista fell, but so did Ashe. 

"Felix." 

Someone had him by the arm. 

"Felix." Dimitri was in his face now, obstructing his view of the place where Ashe lay on the stone. "The ballistas are down. It's time." 

A cold deeper than the darkest winters in Fraldarius seeped through Felix, turning his blood to ice. "You ordered him in there." 

"What?" Dimitri's one good eye looked crazed as he scanned the battlefield. He finally turned and saw Ashe's body on the ground. "It is a shame, but we have to keep pushing. Don't let it be in vain. This isn't the time."

The ice turned to fire. His crest flared, turning his vision blue, making him feel strong enough to cleave the world apart. Felix grabbed at the front of Dimitri's armor, getting his hand through a crevice at the collar so he could shake the man. "You sent him in there to die." 

"He knew his task," Dimitri said. "He went in knowing his duty. Don't let it be for naught." 

"Of course it's for naught," Felix screamed. "It's always for naught. They always die and it's always a noble fucking sacrifice for _nothing_." 

"We don't have time for this." 

"You're right," Felix said. He shoved Dimitri away and rushed in the direction of Ashe. But the archer was already gone. Dead? Carried off alive? Escaped? Felix had no clue but the blood stain on the paving stones. 

Magic whizzed past his head, striking the ground nearby. His gaze crawled up from the blood on the street to the cluster of mages now facing him. A snarl curled his mouth. He paced toward them, not bothering to flinch aside even as magic flew past him. A bolt clipped his arm. Another hit his side. Felix did not change his pace, did not stop even when a blast hit him square in the shoulder. He felt his own blood run warm down his arm. 

That was the last free strike the mages got against him. Then Felix raised his sword and everything was a blur of carnage as his crest sang within him. 

He did not stop--could not stop--after finishing with the mages. He pushed on, not knowing where he was going. Not caring. Searching for red uniforms like a hound on the hunt and dispatching them with swift cruelty. Surely, if he killed enough of them, he'd find Ashe. 

Yet even as he carved a path toward the palace, there was no sign of Ashe among Edelgard's troops. Still, he pressed on, obliterating anything in his way. If they fled, he chased. If they charged, they only made his task easier. If they begged, he slowed their demise to question them, but none of them had the information he sought.

He was still cutting down enemies when Dimitri's spear pierced Edelgard. He felt the repercussions of her desperate magic as she died, more beast than woman in her final moments. Then Dimitri was laughing, the sound ricocheting off the high ceilings of the throne room.

The sound of that frenzied laugh, that broken, horrible mirth, jolted Felix out of his rage. He found himself covered in blood, his own and his enemies'. His shoulder hurt; his body shook with exhaustion. Yet he stood in the throne room, searching, hoping against all odds to be wrong about what had driven him here. 

The last enemies fled. Felix's crest quieted. He stumbled, his legs suddenly unsteady. Pain flooded his body as the glow of the crest dimmed.

Only Sylvain was bold enough to approach him. 

"You're hurt," Sylvain said, swinging down off his horse. His own armor was smeared in blood. 

"I'm fine," Felix said. Still, he searched. Annette, Mercedes, Ingrid, Dedue... There was only one person missing, only one member of the original Blue Lions not standing in the throne room celebrating their victory.

Sylvain watched Felix searching the room and his face went pale. "Ashe." 

"The ballistas," Felix said. "He took down the ballistas." 

Sylvain looked pained. "He's not here." 

"No." It came out louder than Felix intended, nearly loud enough to compete with Dimitri's cackling. 

"Felix..." 

"No. Shut up. No." But Felix was staring at the floor, grinding his teeth together as a vice tightened around his lungs. 

Sylvain's arms swallowed Felix, pulling him in against his stained armor. Felix struggled at first, but found his body weak. There was nothing left. Nothing left to fight or scream with. Nothing left to cry with. 

He gave up, arms limp, face against the cold steel plating on Sylvain's chest. 

"I'm so sorry," Sylvain said. 

That's when Felix broke, his own scream a rival to Dimitri's insane laughter, both cries ringing in the echoing throne room where the emperor lay dead.

#

They searched for hours. For days. For weeks. But Ashe was not in Enbarr or, if he was, his body was so mutilated it could not be identified.

Felix didn't remember exactly when he gave up. A dull pallor shaded every moment after the battle. He knew they returned to Garreg Mach. He knew they celebrated. He knew Dimitri rode off to play king with Dedue by his side. He knew he went back to Fraldarius, eventually, somehow. But most of the year following the battle of Enbarr was a shadow, a half-remembered dream. 

"...an excellent family. The daughter of a knight long in your father's service," Andres was saying. 

Felix sighed. He slumped in the chair, his cheek resting against his hand. 

Andres frowned down at him. The lines around his mouth had sunken in deeper in the past year; going from Rodrigue's adviser to Felix's had taken a toll. 

Felix could not be bothered to care. He knew what Andres, and the rest of his father's advisers, felt about him. A poor substitute for Rodrigue. A shame he'd lived and not good, dutiful Glenn, who might be married to Ingrid by now and making them all the crest babies they could hope for.

Instead, in the aftermath of the war, they had only Felix, who slouched in the chair in his bedchambers and stared dully at the wall. 

"Well," Andres said. "I'll fetch her." 

He left and Felix had a breath of solitude. It should have been comforting, but he'd had few moments of peace since the battle in Enbarr. Rather, being alone simply allowed the knife buried in his breast since that day to twist. Felix touched his chest, willing the hand squeezing the air out of his lungs to relent, but it never did. Every day for the past year, it squeezed and squeezed, choking him until it seemed an effort just to breathe. 

Andres returned with a fair-haired woman wearing what was probably the finest dress she owned. She looked like she was going to a village market fair. She gaped at Felix's room in Fraldarius' castle, taking in tapestries and carved bedposts with wide eyes. 

Felix wanted to spit. Where were they plucking these women from? What lies were they telling them to get them to come here? It made his stomach clench. 

Andres retreated with some meaningless words and a nudge for the woman. She looked back at the door as it closed, then regarded Felix. He did not change his posture as she approached, her hands clasped before her. 

For a while she simply stood before him. She was not unattractive; she regarded him with large, dark eyes, her pale hair spilling over her shoulders. Freckles splattered her cheeks and Felix felt his guts tie themselves in knots. 

"Um, I think I'm meant to, well," she said, voice soft. 

Did she not even know what Andres meant by bringing her here? It made Felix's mouth taste sour to imagine what happened to women like this who were shipped off to this noble or that. 

"I'm not going to touch you," he said. 

She looked startled, and perhaps relieved. 

"I--I'm sorry," she said. "Should I... um..." 

"Sit," he said, waving at the chair beside him. 

She did, folding her hands in her lap. 

"Where are you from?" he said. "Tell me about your family." 

She started talking. He encouraged her along occasionally to keep her speaking, but offered little conversation of his own. And just like all the others, she eventually relaxed, explaining how Andres or one of the others had offered her family a pile of money, how her parents were relying on her, how she had little or no idea what to do with Felix, but hoped it would all work out somehow. 

Felix let her talk for as long as she liked, then sent her away with a little pouch of money. And as with every other time, Felix slipped down to the training room after the encounter, trying to avoid Andres and the rest of the world. 

Working his body offered a rare moment of peace. He was never free from pain, not since Enbarr, but as he paced through footwork, striking straw dummies, practicing forms and techniques, the hand strangling the breath out of him relaxed just a little. 

Thus, when Andres found him, he was sweating, sword in hand. Felix did not turn as the adviser entered the training room. He always arrived eventually to lecture him about duty and fate and what Rodrigue would have done if he were alive and running Fraldarius instead of Felix. 

"Well, in any case, there's another," Andres said. 

Felix finally turned at this. Two in a day. The man had some nerve. 

"I did not choose her," Andres said. "She arrived on her own, claiming she knows you." 

"And you just believed her and let her in?" 

Andres had the gall to shrug. "If it will solve our... problem... I am willing to take unusual steps."

Felix threw the practice sword aside, causing a clatter, but he bit back all he wanted to say. He brushed past Andres on the way out of the training room, shoving the older man with his shoulder as he stormed toward his chambers. Felix didn't bother wiping off the sweat and grime; he had no intention of touching this woman either.

But when he threw open the door to his bedroom he froze, his anger dissolving in a flash. 

Annette faced him. "Hi, Felix," she said softly. 

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and shut the door before Andres or anyone else could poke their nosy heads in. "What are you doing here?" he said.

"I was hoping I could come work for you." 

"What?" He hadn't seen Annette since the battle in Enbarr. He was sure she'd returned to Garreg Mach with everyone else, but by then Felix had been so detached that he didn't even remember seeing her. 

"I've been traveling," Annette said. "I thought maybe I could stay with Dimitri, but he's..." 

Felix didn't need her to finish the thought. The war hadn't improved Dimitri and neither had assuming the title of king. 

"This is the last place I could think to go," she said. "I don't really know what to do with myself since..." Her face twisted with pain for a moment, but she collected herself. 

Felix stepped forward, impulsive, reaching out for the one person who could perhaps understand the knife twisting in his chest since Enbarr. She fell into the embrace, her head against his chest, heedless of the sweat. Felix held her as she broke down and wept.

But even though Annette stayed, she proved both a comfort and a source of fresh hurt. Andres and the advisers were heartened by this turn, but Felix found he could not spend much time near Annette. Inevitably, their conversations turned to that which hurt them most. 

And so, cruel though it was, Felix sought comfort in Gautier lands.

#

"I hope your trip was pleasant," Sylvain said.

Felix walked beside him through Margrave Gautier's mansion. "It was fine," he said. 

"Have you been sleeping? You look tired." 

Felix bit back a sneer. He knew the lines under his eyes had deepened in the past year. He didn't need Sylvain pointing it out. "Are you my mother now?" 

Sylvain frowned and Felix almost felt bad for snapping at the man. "Why don't we get started?" 

He showed Felix into a meeting room. A few advisers from each territory, including Andres, loitered about the room while Sylvain and Felix went through the motions of discussing grain supplies for the winter and crop yields and road maintenance and whatever else they droned on about. 

Felix hardly heard it. Everyone in the room knew it was a farce, yet here they were playing this ridiculous game once again. All so he could use Sylvain later. All so he could forget for a couple hours. He could feel Andres glaring at him for it already.

A familiar knot coiled in his stomach. Even as they talked about pot holes and broken wheel axles, Felix could feel Sylvain's eyes on him. The way the red head looked at him made him queasy. Sylvian sat closer than he needed to during the meeting, letting their arms touch, nudging him with a shoulder, watching his face every time Felix spoke like each word was honey. Felix clenched his teeth, trying not to think of how he'd take advantage of that adoring gaze, but eager to do it just the same. 

He looked up, just to escape those earnest eyes, and saw a flash of silver. Two teenagers dashed past the door of the meeting room, chasing each other, their mops of silver hair bouncing. One paused, regarding him with bright green eyes, before they both skipped away. Ice flooded his veins.

Sylvain followed his gaze. "I'm sorry," he said. 

"They're..."

"They had nowhere to go," Sylvain said. "Ashe was going to come back for them, but... I convinced my father to let them stay here. They've been doing well, all things considered. They're bright and optimistic, just like their brother." 

Felix looked down at the table, staring blindly at the documents strewn across it. Something had gripped his chest like it was trying to rip his lungs out and oh goddess, it hurt. Hurt so much more than he'd ever thought anything could. 

Sylvain's hand was on his shoulder. "Hey, why don't we talk more about this alone?" He waved at the cluster of advisers. "You all can go. I think we got the important parts covered." 

Felix kept staring at the table while Sylvain bustled around the room, reassuring advisers, doling out duties, handing maps and contracts to the appropriate parties. Doing all the tasks that were supposed to fall to Felix.

It had been a year. A whole year. Almost to the day. And he was still this useless, this pathetic. Somehow that made it all worse. 

Sylvain nearly had to drag him to his feet. "Why don't we go?" he said. His voice and hand were so gentle. Felix swallowed hard, unable to look at the man moments before he unleashed all his hurt on him. Again.

"Sure," he said. 

He let Sylvain lead him to his chambers. Felix stood in the middle of the darkened room, staring at the red and gold carpet. Behind him, Sylvain reassured some adviser or other before closing and locking the door. Felix heard him approach, then felt the other man's arms slide around his waist, hugging Felix against him. Sylvain nuzzled against him, seeming to breathe him in as his arms squeezed tighter. The contented sigh Sylvain exhaled against his neck made Felix's mouth go dry. 

Sylvain started kissing his neck, his hands roaming over Felix's chest. Felix closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Goddess forgive him, but he just wanted to feel OK, just wanted something to distract him from the vice around his chest. He wanted to breathe without pain, just for a few minutes. 

Sylvain turned him around, cupping Felix's face in his hand. As he looked down, Felix already saw the heartbreak in his eyes. They both pretended to ignore it as Sylvain bent to kiss him. Felix pressed against him with abandon, willing the kiss to consume him, trying to fall into it so deeply he'd never have to come back out. Sylvain's hand was around his waist, pulling their bodies together. His fingers dug into Felix, as though he was trying to ensure already that Felix would not flee. 

Sylvain broke the kiss first. He led Felix wordlessly to his bed, sitting on the edge and guiding Felix onto his lap. 

For a long moment, Sylvain simply looked up at him, his eyes scanning as though recording every detail. 

"Felix, I..."

"Don't," Felix said. 

"I just..."

Felix bent to kiss him and stop the man speaking. He needed to stop thinking, needed them both to stop thinking. _Just for now. Please._

He hitched his hips forward, moving close enough to feel Sylvain's cock under him. As he rubbed against it, Sylvain moaned into his mouth, and Felix knew he'd silenced any difficult conversations. 

Felix broke away, shoving Sylvain back onto the bed and perching over him. He reached for Sylvain's cock, rubbing it through his pants. Sylvain's head tipped back as he gasped, eyes squeezed shut. He pushed into the hand at his crotch and Felix yanked his shirt up. No freckles on this torso, but Felix kissed it just the same, trailing up until he found a nipple to stretch and tease. Sylvain writhed under him, moaning. 

Sylvain took him by the shoulders, moving him back. His face was flushed, his eyes adoring, as he pulled Felix to his mouth. 

Felix jabbed his tongue into Sylvain's mouth while he rolled his hips against the other man's erection. He used Sylvain's hair to tilt his head back so he could kiss his neck and flick his tongue at his earlobe. There were no cries this time, no pleasant little shudders. Felix tried to push that from his mind, but his hesitation must have showed because Sylvain flipped them both over. 

Sylvain eased Felix out of his shirt, kissing him roughly before starting to trail down his chest and abdomen. He shrugged Felix's pants down, exposing his cock, then began stroking it in one hand, watching Felix arch as he did. Sylvain smiled at the reaction, then took Felix into his mouth, working rapidly and hungrily. 

Any hesitation disappeared as Felix's mind finally, blissfully went blank. He concentrated on the feel of Sylvain's lips around him, sliding up and down, his tongue flicking out to run along the shaft. He gripped Sylvain's hair, pulling perhaps harder than he should. 

"Fuck," Felix breathed. 

Sylvain stopped, leaving him aching, walking a tightrope between pain and ecstasy that was so sweet it washed away the rest of the world. 

Sylvain guided him up and onto all fours. Behind him now, Felix heard a bottle open. Then a slick finger ran around his ass, followed by a tongue. 

Felix jerked at the sudden sensation. Sylvain's tongue ran around his rim, making Felix arch, igniting something deep within him. Sylvain pressed further. Felix clutched the bedsheets, each breath a ragged gasp as Sylvain licked. A fire burned in his veins, but it was not his damnable crest. It was not battle rage or resignation or hatred. Felix collapsed into the sensation as Sylvain's tongue toyed with him, willing the flames to burn hotter and consume him. 

A slick finger entered him and Felix groaned. Sylvain pressed against him, his cock against his thighs even as his finger played with his ass. Felix squeezed his legs together and Sylvain pressed deeper with his finger. A second lubricated finger joined, making Felix's whole body feel tight and full. He rocked back onto Sylvain's hand, moving his hips in time with the other man's motion. 

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," Sylvain rasped. 

Felix collapsed forward, pressing his face into the sheets. Sylvain ran his hand up the curve of Felix's back, even while his fingers still pumped inside his ass. 

Felix sat up enough to reach Sylvain's free hand and place it at his neck. He did not speak, but applied pressure, pushing Sylvain's hand against his throat. Still, Sylvain hesitated and Felix put more pressure on the hand at his neck. 

Finally, Sylvain squeezed, just a little, but for a moment Felix was breathless, floating, his mind truly blank. 

"Yeah," he said. "More." 

Sylvain held his neck, applying gentle pressure. Felix shuddered. Something about the dueling sensations, pleasure and pain, ecstasy and fear, brought him to a new edge, a place he hadn't known he'd needed until he found it. Here he lost himself, truly and fully, detaching for a brief, bright instant. 

"Harder," he gasped, not even sure which of Sylvain's hands he meant. 

Both complied. The fingers in his ass moved rapidly, pounding into him, while the hand on his throat choked off more air. The world went black. He couldn't cry out, yet he shuddered with pleasure and pain and horror and bliss. 

It was the best he'd felt in a year. 

He choked as the orgasm hit, truly unable to breathe as he jerked against Sylvain's hands, cum spurting onto the bed and his own abdomen. 

Felix collapsed onto the bed, heedless of the wet spot beneath him. Sylvain rubbed his cock on his ass, pressing Felix into the mattress as he ground against him to find his own release. Felix rolled his hips against his cock, exhausted but trying to give whatever he had left. Sylvain deserved at least that much from him.

Felix flipped over and sat up, taking Sylvain's cock in his hand. Sylvain gasped as Felix started to pump, quick and sure. Felix sat facing him, staring at his flushed face while he worked his cock. Sylvain put his forehead against Felix's, holding the back of his neck as he panted against him. Felix used both hands now, one pumping while the other played with Sylvain's balls. 

"Oh fuck," Sylvain moaned. "Oh Felix. Shit." 

Sylvain gripped harder for a moment, mouth agape but silent. Cum spurted up between them and Sylvain quivered in Felix's hands. He slumped against Felix as his orgasm subsided, hugging Felix against him and trying to catch his breath. 

Felix did not force him away, but neither did he return the embrace. He felt utterly empty, depleted in mind and body. 

Sylvain backed up to kiss Felix before he stumbled off the bed. He returned a moment later and cleaned them both up. As they settled back on the bed to recover, Sylvain propped himself up on an elbow, watching Felix intently.

"What?" Felix said, a bit too sharply. 

Sylvain just shook his head and tossed the rag away, then curled up next to Felix, placing his head on the swordsman's chest. 

Felix let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the echoes of pleasure washing through his body in slow waves. It felt like he couldn't quite find his breath yet. His throat was slightly sore. He touched his neck. 

"Don't ask me to do that again," Sylvain said. 

Felix opened his eyes and sighed. "Fine." 

"We should have talked about it before if that's what you wanted."

"I didn't know I wanted it," Felix said. And it was true. He didn't know, wouldn't have guessed, but goddess it had felt good to have the whole world sliding away from him like that. 

"That's the part that scares me," Sylvain said softly against his chest. 

Felix did not respond, but that ache was back, gripping at his chest, trying to squeeze all the air out of his lungs. He freed himself from Sylvain's hold and slipped off the bed, searching for his clothing. Sylvain sat up, watching him get dressed. 

When Sylvain spoke, it was hardly a whisper, but it froze Felix all the same.

"Can't you stay?"

Felix paused, his shirt unlaced and hanging open. He kept his back to Sylvain. "No." He couldn't face the other man, couldn't bear to see the expression on his face right now. Damn it, he'd come here to feel OK, if only for a moment. Why was that vice tightening around him again already? 

"It's too late for you to travel back to Fraldarius," Sylvain said. 

"I know," he said.

"Where will you go?" 

"I'll tell them our meeting is over and I need a room for the night," Felix said. 

He heard Sylvain get off the bed and braced himself. Sylvain wrapped his arms around Felix from behind. "That's really better than staying with me?" 

Felix focused on the floor. "I'll only make it worse staying here."

Sylvain laughed mirthlessly. "Can it get worse? Let me pretend. Just for one night." 

Felix relented. Because he understood wanting to pretend. Understood the value of a single night without pain. Understood that feeling better right now was sometimes worth feeling even worse later. 

He slept in Sylvain's bed that night and pretended the mop of hair resting on his chest was silver instead of red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Sylvain Gautier, I am SO sorry. 
> 
> Also, hey, your old pal purple_bookcover here to say that choking CAN be fun and great sex play. No shade on choking. But Sylvain is super correct - you should talk to your partner before if you want something specific. Really, I'm not trying to cast any shade on choking. It's a cool sensory thing. But you have to be safe and discuss things. Really, ANYTHING these two did together in this chapter was going to be kinda fucked up. Choking just took one for the team. No hate. 
> 
> You can find me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	7. The Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain tries to move on after Felix's latest visit. But Ingrid interrupts him with an urgent message about a spy in the south... 
> 
> Meanwhile, Felix receives a bottle of wine from yet another potential wife and decides to share it with Annette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for surviving while I rushed to get this up. 
> 
> SPOILERS: BL route. Etc etc.

Sylvain stood on the balcony and watched the party from Fraldarius ride away, Felix a bright blue spot among the drab gray of his advisers. Did the swordsman feel Sylvain's eyes following him, soaking up every detail, absorbing every moment? If so, he did not acknowledge it. Felix did not so much as glance over his shoulder as he mounted his horse. 

The duke and his party trotted away from the keep, winding through the sprawling city beyond. Sylvain lost them among the buildings, yet lingered on the balcony, watching the place where Felix had been. 

The chasm that opened in Sylvain's gut was familiar by now, but hurt no less keenly. How many times in the past year had he watched Felix ride away, impassive as ever? How many times had he taken a deep breath and pretended it didn't tear open wounds nearly as old as their rocky friendship? 

Yet when two high voices called his name he turned. He even managed to smile. Green eyes peered at him. The way those freckled faces looked at him, so full of hope and trust, made his stomach tie up in knots. 

"Sylvain, can we visit the horses now that your friend is gone?" Rowan asked. 

"Please, we've done all the chores, just like you asked," Fina added. 

For two teenagers who'd lost parents, adopted family and a brother, they were remarkably responsible and cheerful. Not to say he'd never caught them crying. And they rarely left each other's sides anymore. But considering how much the world had taken from them, Rowan and Fina were small miracles. 

Sylvain smiled, sincerely this time, and gathered one under each arm. They were small, just as Ashe had been at their ages, though the boy, Rowan, showed signs of a growth spurt. 

"We'll visit my favorite horse today," Sylvain told them. "She could use some exercise. How does that sound?"

"Can we jump?" Fina asked. 

"Ah, I think a couple jumps may be in order," Sylvain said. "But remember, it's up to Solmyr. If she's in a foul mood, you have to let her be. First rule of horses, be nice."

"We'll cheer her up," Rowan said. 

The riding lessons proved a welcome distraction. It was incredible how alike all three Ubert siblings were. Rowan and Fina had the same careless, easy way of erasing the tension around them, no matter how dark things looked. Sylvain found himself laughing as he instructed them, letting them run his horse around the grounds and feed her carrots and apples. He promised more lessons before the day was through, nearly forgetting how cold his bed would feel until he fell into it that night, exhausted and strangely satisfied. 

It took a few days for the loneliness and longing to settle back over him like a damp cloak. When it did, Sylvain did what he always did; what he'd done since they were children and Felix cared more about training than about him; since they were teenagers and Felix had turned sullen and sad and Sylvain filled the emptiness with flirting; since they were adults and the war tore everyone apart. He'd survived on scraps his entire life. Now would be no different. 

Sylvain pressed on, as he always had, and if anyone noticed the pain inflicted by tasting a brief, castaway side of Felix, they said nothing. 

And so when Ingrid rode through the gates of the keep, jumping off her horse before it'd even stopped trotting, Sylvain was busy hearing the concerns of a few guards tired of drawing night duty too many months in a row. 

"Excuse me," she said, shoving through the group of guards. 

Sylvain made the apologies while she watched, practically dancing in her scuffed armor. She looked dirty and exhausted. Her hair fell free of its braids and onto her flushed face. She still hadn't quite caught her breath by the time they were finally alone. 

Sylvain started to lead her away. "Goddess, Ingrid. You look like you've slept on the ground for the past month."

"When I slept at all," she said and he could hear the weariness in her voice. 

"What's wrong? Are you OK?" 

"I'm fine," she said. 

But his friend and knight looked far from fine. After the war, she'd continued traveling and fighting, now in the service of house Gautier. It seemed Ingrid had little desire to slow down and Sylvain could not blame her. Often, he longed for the life she'd chosen, still out there righting wrongs, free and unhindered. Usually, she disappeared for a few weeks or months and returned with some bland report about bandits or the occasional fool still loyal to Edelgard. But this was clearly different. 

"I've had a report," Ingrid said. "It came from the south."

Sylvain grimaced. If anyone anywhere was going to try to stage another rebellion in Edelgard's name, it would start in the south. Dimitri and the rest of the kingdom hadn't quite been able to subdue the grumblings of the former empire in the past year. 

"Someone captured a spy," Ingrid said. She spoke so quietly Sylvain had to lean in to hear her. 

"A spy?" he said.

"So they claim. Some village down near the coast where Enbarr was."

"Why does a village have a spy?"

"They found him," Ingrid said. "Apparently he just showed up one day claiming to have escaped Edelgard's forces. The villagers didn't believe him and didn't want the kingdom to come in thinking they were sympathizing with Edelgard's loyalists. So they arrested him and named him a spy and reported it to the first kingdom soldier they could find."

"What?" Sylvain said. "What is this? Some guy shows up from nowhere and may or may not be a spy for Edelgard? Why are you telling me this?"

"He invoked your house's name, Sylvian," Ingrid said. "He claimed he had family living in the Margrave Gautier's keep. Siblings."

Sylvain's blood ran cold. "What?" 

Ingrid nodded, watching comprehension dawn. "No one had any accounts of what this 'spy' looks like, but it has to be him. It has to be Ashe." 

Sylvain froze, rooted to where he stood. It wasn't like the Margrave made a habit of taking in orphans. There was only one person who could actually make such a ridiculous claim. It was too specific and bizarre to be a lie, either. 

Sylvain started running the moment he recovered. He heard Ingrid clattering after him, still in her armor. In minutes, he had Solmyr by the reins and was tossing a saddle onto her back. 

"What are you doing?" Ingrid said, but she was already climbing back up onto her horse. 

_Thank the fucking goddess for Ingrid,_ Sylvain thought. No idea what insane scheme he had in mind this time, but already mounted up to protect him from completely blowing it. 

He swung onto Solmyr's saddle. "We have to tell Felix," he said. 

Ingrid's expression cracked for a moment. Sylvain couldn't bear the pity that she pointed at him now, so he focused on the horizon instead. There was still enough light left to reach Fraldarius if they rode hard. 

"We don't have time, Ingrid," he said. "We have to go."

"Alright," Ingrid said. 

She rode beside him as they charged south to Fraldarius, silent streaks against the red sunset.

#

"...the vineyards of the former empire. It was said to be the finest climate in all of Fodlan for this particular variety of grape."

Andres presented the bottle to Felix like it might contain all the secrets of the goddess herself. Felix accepted it, holding it by the neck in one hand while the other hand went to his hip. "And what do you propose I do with it?" he said. 

Anger flashed across Andres' face, but the man still had the dignity to snuff it out and smile. "This is not a gift given lightly, my lord. The woman's family understands our... situation quite well. They are eager for you to meet their daughter."

"I'm sure they are," Felix muttered. 

Andres let the anger show this time. "This is not a family to take lightly," he said. "You are aware of how tenuous our relationship with the south is, I'm sure. This could solve not only our problem but several of Dimitri's as well."

Felix felt a snarl curl his mouth. Andres took a step back. The last thing, the very last fucking thing, he needed was for _Dimitri_ to get involved. 

He spun on his heel and left without another word. Andres did not bother to call out after him.

Felix hurried through the fortress wearing a look that dared anyone to take their life in their hands by trying to speak with him. He'd hardly been home a week and already they had another ridiculous scheme plotted out for him. Felix hadn't even had time to feel guilty about Sylvain. 

Sylvian. 

He nearly groaned. Felix had to end that soon, ought to have ended it months ago. Yet neither of them really wanted it to stop, did they? The mutual self-destruction was too easy and felt too good. Suffering together was slightly less painful than suffering alone. 

Speaking of... Felix paused his mad trek through the fortress when he spotted Annette just heading in, shivering as she pulled her cloak close around her. 

"Oh, Felix," she said, smiling as she intercepted him. How did she do that? How did she smile and look sincere about it still?

"Were you outside?" he said.

She nodded. "I was trying to find a place to watch the sunset," she said. "I haven't spent much time in Fraldarius before now. It's actually a really beautiful country. I always just thought of it as cold. What's that?" She nodded at his hand.

He lifted the wine with its ridiculous gold label. "It's a... gift." 

She looked apologetic. "Another one?" 

He just sighed in response. 

"Well, at least it's pretty and probably tastes good." 

"You like wine?" he said.

"More now than I used to," she admitted. And, ah, there it was. That ache undercutting both their lives finally peeked through her cheerful veil. 

An idea struck him. "Come with me," Felix said. 

Color touched her cheeks and he hurried on. "I know a good place to see the sunset."

#

"If you could have seen his face back then you would have died," Annette said, bubbling into laughter.

Felix bit his cheeks to keep from laughing along with her. They leaned on the railing of the balcony in his chambers. Red and pink washed out the sky as the sun sank. The cold air of Fraldarius bit sharper as the day's meager heat dissipated. 

"More?" Annette said, holding up the wine bottle. 

Felix scoffed at the ridiculous bottle and held out his glass for her. They clinked their full glasses before taking another drink. 

"This was supposed to buy my blood," Felix said. 

"It is very good wine," Annette said. "And a very pretty bottle."

"Well, in that case, I ought to go apologize to Andres," Felix said. He pushed away from the rail but Annette caught his sleeve.

"I was _joking_," she said. "I don't think anyone should be buying your anything."

He leaned his back against the railing now. "Yet they will try." 

Annette studied him sadly. He took another sip. It really was excellent wine. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time Ashe thought you were haunting him?" Annette said.

"What?" 

She chuckled. "It was when we were all still students. You know how he feels, felt, about ghosts. You were busy doing the whole dark and broody thing. This was right after you invited him to your room to 'read' and then kicked him right back out."

"He told you that?" Felix said.

She leveled him with a heavy look. "He told me everything, Felix. Please." 

"Fair," he said. "Go on."

"So anyway," Annette said, "very confusing times. There was that kiss, immediately followed by not even meeting his eyes. And apparently he had this dream about you or something and he woke up and swore to the goddess he could hear you talking. But he goes out into the hallway and there's no one there. He made it all the way down to the training room in the middle of the night and still, nothing."

"I was probably sleeping."

"Well, yes, obviously, but Ashe didn't believe that. He was _sure_ this dream was some sort of premonition or something. So, anyway, he makes it to the training room and--" She slapped her hand on the balcony. "Bam! The door slams shut. A sword falls from the rack. Poor Ashe is nearly beside himself with fear. He woke me up banging on my door and slept in my room the rest of the month." 

Annette laughed at the memory. Soon, Felix found himself chuckling. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the image of Ashe yelping like a mouse and running from imaginary ghosts. 

Felix looked up at the sky. "Goddess, I was such an ass." 

"You still are."

"Well..." He had no counter argument to that. 

"I'm joking again," Annette said. "I wouldn't be here if I really thought you were that bad. Sure, Ashe pined and moped, but that's what teenagers do, isn't it?" 

"It didn't need to be that way, if I was less of a coward." 

"We were kids."

"At first," Felix said. "What about all those months before Enbarr? What's my excuse then? I was... cruel, at times. Incredibly cruel."

Annette regarded him sadly. "I mean, you weren't wrong. You were trying to do your best. Look at how they're treating you now. What would Andres have done if he'd known back then?"

Felix shivered. "I'd rather not know." 

He looked down when he felt Annette's hand on his arm. "You were just trying to protect both of you. I'll admit, there were times when I wanted to throttle you, times when he would come to me and cry for hours over you and I wanted nothing more than to give you a swift kick. But..." 

"But?" Her hand was still on his arm, gripping tighter now as she thought back. 

She looked up, meeting his eyes, and they were both torn open, raw. "He just loved you so much, Felix. I couldn't." 

He studied his feet, swallowing hard. The wine had loosened his normally iron grip on his emotions. They rose like a tidal wave, a year of carefully managed and controlled pain, flooding him all at once. He gripped the railing behind him and tried to remember how to breathe. 

"I'm sorry," Annette said. "I'm really sorry." She placed herself in front of him, holding both arms now, trying to coax his gaze up. "I didn't mean to..." 

"It's fine," he managed, throat tight. He cleared it to continue. "I didn't realize he felt that way." 

"Liar."

He finally looked up at that. Annette was actually smiling at him. "You're such a liar," she said. "It was so obvious. If you didn't know, it was because you refused to see." 

He shook his head. He could see how she and Ashe had become so close. That keen, blunt way of stating the truth, without venom, without malice, but sharp all the same.

"The both of you will be my death," he said. 

"You really think we'd let you off that easy?" she said.

We. He lingered on that word. There was so much of Ashe in her and, goddess damn this ridiculous wine, but he longed to reach out for it, to touch that piece of her that was also Ashe, just for a moment. 

A flush spread across Annette's cheeks. She was still holding his arms. She released him with a yelp, clasping her hands at her chest. 

"Sorry," he said. "You just..."

"It's OK," she said. 

Why were they whispering? 

She stepped closer to him, too close, her cheeks going rose-colored. Her eyes flickered down to his chest before coming back up to meet his. He swallowed. 

"I didn't come here for this reason or anything," she said. "I mean, I didn't think..."

"I know."

"I kind of assumed... I don't want to be..."

"I know."

"Really, I honestly--"

"Annette," he said. "Stop talking." 

He leaned down before she could apologize or stutter again and pressed his lips to hers, tasting the sweetness of the wine they'd had. She inhaled, gripping his shoulders. She wasn't Ashe. She'd never be Ashe. He knew that. He wasn't so drunk or sad that he was stupid. But something in her kiss felt and tasted and whispered of Ashe. Her determined softness, her passive sweetness, the slight tremble in her hands, even as she pressed against him harder. Felix slipped his hands around her back and pulled her in. 

They broke away to find their breath. He willed his thoughts to quiet, willed his brain to just _shut up_ for one damn minute. This wasn't Sylvain, looking at him with heartbreak and longing. This wasn't Ashe, either. He wouldn't hurt Annette, and she wouldn't hurt him. 

He slid his hand down until he found the slit in her dress, then lifted her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist. Felix carried her easily back into his room and they tumbled onto the bed, limbs tangled as they kissed and groped. It was clumsy work, especially on his part. 

They rolled and he found himself perched over her. Annette's hair had fallen loose and spread around her like soft orange flames. He unbuttoned the bodice of her dress, letting his hand slip inside. Her breasts were firm and she moaned as he ran his calloused hand over one. He kissed down her neck, trailing into the open space at the front of her dress. He hadn't realized just how soft breasts would be. He found her nipple, licking at it so that she arched against him and gripped his shoulders. The sounds she made, little whines and whimpers, were too similar to stop him thinking, again, of Ashe, unfair as it was. 

He sat back, tossing aside his shirt and pants. Annette had started to shrug off her dress, but stopped, staring at his bare chest a moment. 

"What?" he snapped, sharper than he meant to.

"Nothing," she said, getting the dress over her head and onto the floor. "Wow, you are..." She leaned forward to run her hands up his chest and over his shoulders. She started kissing his neck, pressing her breasts against him as she did. He heard his breaths take on a ragged edge.

She paused near his ear. "Have you been with a woman before?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"Not really?"

He thought back to the one time Sylvain had convinced both him and Ingrid to drink a bit too much and spend the night with him in a bar outside Garreg Mach. "Not really," he repeated. 

She took his hand and moved it down to her crotch. He felt a small nub under his fingers. "There," she said. He started to rub, enjoying the way it made her move against his hand and moan. "Not too hard," she said.

He eased her onto the bed, continuing to rub where she'd told him, watching her writhe as he hunched over her. He found the right rhythm and pressure quickly. Annette's eyes were squeezed shut. She arched, rolling her hips. He could feel her getting wetter each moment. 

She gathered herself for a moment. "Come here," she said. 

She positioned his hips over her face. Annette ran a hand up and down his cock, then angled it into her mouth. He nearly choked in surprise. Then he leaned down, trying to find the place where he'd been rubbing and trading his fingers for his mouth. 

Apparently, he succeeded, because she moaned around his cock, even as her tongue flicked out to lick his length. He pressed harder with his tongue, tasting something sweet like the wine, but also bitter like sweat. He licked, searching for more, smelling her all around him now. He tested a finger against her pussy and she shuddered. Felix ran the finger around the wet spot. His cock slipped out of Annette's mouth as she tilted her head back to moan. 

"Fuck, you're a quick study," she said in a breathy gasp. 

She turned him again, so they were face to face now. They paused there, both aching, yet hesitant. In any sane, reasonable world, this wouldn't be happening, Felix thought. In any merciful kind of universe they wouldn't be in his bed fucking to forget about someone else entirely. 

But the world was not kind. And so Felix bent down, kissing her, tasting the sweetness on her lips, and she put a hand on his neck, pulling him closer. Felix let his body lower so he could feel her skin against his. Annette threw a leg around his waist, rolling her hips up against him. Heat billowed between their bodies. Felix moved his hips in time with Annette's, his cock rubbing against her body. 

She removed her hand from his neck and moved it lower. Annette angled his cock toward her pussy and he felt the heat and wetness waiting for him. 

"Is it OK?" she said.

He nodded, afraid to speak, and she guided him inside her. Her breaths quivered as she took him in. Felix exhaled a groan. He could feel her all around him, hot and yearning. Annette wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him down. One leg was still around his waist, but she used the other to find enough leverage to shift her hips up and against him. 

For a moment, all the world was that sweet warmth. Felix relaxed into it, letting go of thought or hesitation. He started to move his hips and she shuddered, holding him tighter. As he found a rhythm, she whimpered at his ear, high and hungry. 

Her other leg moved around his waist and she crossed her ankles on his back. He felt everything inside her tighten around him and gasped a moan. Even in that position, she moved her hips in time with his. 

"Harder," she breathed at his ear. 

He obeyed eagerly and was rewarded with more little cries of pleasure. Her nails dug into his back. She moved one hand to grasp his hair. Felix felt lost within her, deaf to anything but the moans of pleasure she sang beneath him. 

"Oh, goddess," she rasped. "Oh please. Yes." 

She got a leg free and brought it up. Again, he felt her tighten around him somehow. Felix paused a moment, panting, trying to figure out how her knee was practically in her mouth. 

"That's... OK?" he said.

She bit her lip as she tried not to laugh at his surprise. "Hurry, I'm close," she said. 

He thought no more of it, simply enjoying the new level of friction it delivered as he pushed into her. They were both panting now. Annette clawed at his back while holding her leg with her other hand. Felix propped himself up a little, pressing into the mattress with his knees so he could thrust harder, harder, harder--

She cried out, quivering. Her leg rattled in her hold. He felt a soft explosion of wetness while Annette unleashed a shuddering plea to the goddess. He could feel her orgasm, even as he pushed, searching for his own, so close, so very close, especially with her tensing all around him. 

That's when someone pounded on the door. 

Felix froze, still hard inside her, still gasping for breath. Annette looked up at him with wide eyes, still holding back her leg. 

The knock came a second time. Then a third.

"Felix!" Sylvain yelled, muffled by the door.

He went completely cold. 

"Felix, I know you're in there. Answer."

"Felix, please." This time it was Ingrid who called.

"Fuck," he rasped. He was going soft already, even with Annette still under him. 

"Felix, answer me," Sylvain shouted. 

"What?" he snapped, not nearly as sharply as he wished he could just then. 

"Open up," Sylvain called.

"No," Felix said. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Just open."

"No."

"Come on."

"Sylvian, I swear--"

"OK, OK," Sylvain finally relented. "But it's important."

"It better fucking be." 

"We found him, Felix," Ingrid called.

Felix wavered. Below him, Annette gasped, snapping both hands over her mouth. He struggled to find his breath as his heart hammered against his chest. 

"We found Ashe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I release you from your pain, friends. (Maybe.) 
> 
> I'm on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover) Come say hi!
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	8. The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man washes up on a beach along Fodlan's southern coast, a man with silver hair and green eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS: BL route, obviously, etc etc etc 
> 
> CW: There's strong suggestions of beatings and things like that from during the time of Ashe's captivity, but I don't go into extreme detail.

Ianna checked her nets and traps. Another disappointing haul. 

"Any luck?" Taen said.

She grunted. "Let's try farther down." 

The fisherfolk trudged down the beach, pausing at intervals to check their traps. Ianna grumbled as she worked. Another day of bad news to deliver to the village. It seemed like every month brought fewer fish to her nets. 

"Hey, looks like something washed up," Taen said. 

Ianna followed where he pointed, far down the beach. "Seaweed?" she said.

"Too big."

"What else could it be?"

Taen shrugged. They started toward the brown lump on the sand. If they were lucky, it could be some cargo from a ship, or maybe a large sea critter that had gotten stranded by the tide. 

"By the goddess," Taen said, sucking in a sharp breath. 

"What in all the heavens in that?" Ianna said.

They stood over something half-buried in the sand. It looked like a bundle of rags, torn brown garments bunched up and discarded unceremoniously. Taen nudged it with a toe and they heard a groan.

"Merciful goddess," Ianna said. "Is it a person?"

Taen nudged harder with his foot. The bundle of rags made a creaky wheezing noise. 

"Stop kicking them, idiot," Ianna said. "They're hurt."

Ianna got down in the sand. She had to dig through the rags to find the body. As gently as she could, she rolled the person onto their back.

Sand clung to a pale, freckled face. Ianna brushed back lank strands of silver hair. The man on the sand didn't open his eyes, but she could see him grimace from the movement. His chest rose with his shallow, shaky breaths. 

"Goddess, what happened to him?" Taen said. He crouched beside her. "He looks half-drowned." 

"Hey," Ianna said, "are you OK? Who are you?"

The person just groaned in response. 

"Shit, we need to go get someone," Taen said. "We can't leave him like this." 

They started to rise, but the man's hand snapped out, surprisingly quick. He grabbed Ianna's wrist. His eyes, when they finally creaked open, were green. 

"Help," he rasped.

"How did you get here?" Ianna said. "Who are you?"

The man seemed to gather himself to respond. Ianna froze, still in his grasp.

"Ashe," he said.

#

It wasn't until his seventh escape that Ashe saw the water.

The first attempt was the most hopeful. Shortly after getting dragged out of Enbarr, still bleeding and injured, he'd managed to slip free of the rope around his hands and pick the lock of the cart they caged him in. Unfortunately, he'd stepped from right from the cart onto a sleeping guard. 

After that, Edelgard's mages had taken slightly more care with the former thief, but none of their locks held him indefinitely. 

And so the seventh time he slipped free he was dismayed but not surprised to find they'd hauled him off to an island. Water stretched to the horizon in every direction. He did not know how far they'd taken him from the mainland or which way he'd have to go to get back. Thus, while he stood, stunned and absorbing this new predicament, they'd caught him again and locked him up in the dark, dank cell where Ashe spent the better part of a year. 

When he escape an eighth time, he did so preparing to die. 

Despite his best guess about which way land may lie, he navigated blindly when he dove into the water, a barrel keeping him afloat. He drifted all night, pushed along mostly by the currents. When the sun rose he did his best to keep it to his left, but a year of abuse left him exhausted, emaciated and unable to do more than cling to the barrel and hope. More than once something below the surface brushed against his legs and he was sure he was about to get pulled under. As with Edelgard's mages, though, whatever lurked beneath the water inexplicably left him alive.

Then the sky boiled over with dark, bulbous clouds and the water reared up and the waves tossed him like a horse bucking its rider. He lost the barrel, as well as any sense of direction. All Ashe could do was try to keep swimming, try to keep finding air every time he ended up under a wave choking on salt water. 

It took everything his body had left to keep fighting through that interminable storm. But eventually, somehow, he felt sand below him. The waves kept lapping at him, but he clung to land, clung to the impossible hope that he had, beyond all reasonable expectations, survived.

Ashe awoke in a room that smelled of sage and lavender. He was lying on a cot, a blanket tucked in around him. Overhead, plants hung from the rafters. 

The moment he stirred someone strode to his side. Ashe blinked up at a tall man with a sword on his hip and a scowl on his lips. The man's head was completely bald, his face close-shaven. 

"So, you're alive," he said. 

Ashe tried to ask where he was, if he was alive, if this was all a dream, but his voice got caught in his scratchy throat. 

The man helped him gulp down some water. The taste of cold, fresh water after a year living off sips of brown, rancid muck made a tear slip down his cheek. 

The man took the water away all too soon. "Who are you?" he said. 

This time, Ashe's voice worked, though it came out raspy after a year of minimal use. "Ashe," he said. 

"Ashe who?"

"Ubert."

The man crossed his arms, regarding him. "What are you doing here, Ashe Ubert? Who are you?" 

Ashe struggled to remember. His captors had never used his name. He'd just been a tool to them, a potentially valuable prisoner they were waiting to leverage. He'd spoken as little as possible, trying to avoid notice. Now, the idea of who he was, who he'd been, sounded ludicrous. 

"I'm..." he tried. "A soldier." 

"For whom?"

He dug through his memory. It made his head ache. "Prince Dimitri." 

"_Prince_ Dimitri?" the man said. 

He seemed displeased with this answer and Ashe instinctively scrambled to find some response he'd prefer. It was a skill he'd had to learn to stay alive for the past year. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not fathom what answer the man sought if not Dimitri. 

"You speak rather flippantly of your rightful king," the man said.

_King?_ Ashe struggled to process the information. Goddess, why was it so hard to _think_? Why could he not seem to put the pieces of his former life back into place? Why did Fodlan seem stranger to him now than a cage? 

The man backed away and two others swept into the room, flanking the bed Ashe rested on. 

"I'll give you one final chance," the man said. "Who are you?"

The men beside his bed loomed in a way that Ashe recognized all too well after a year of rough treatment. He fought down the panic rising in his chest. 

"Ashe Ubert," he said. "I'm Ashe Ubet. I fought for Dimitri." 

"We'll see," the man said. He waved and the men on either side of Ashe moved in, lifting him from the bed by the arms. Ashe was too weak to do more than scrabble against the floor as they dragged him toward the door. 

"Wait," he said. "Wait, please. Wait."

But the men kept pulling. He felt helpless in their grip, light as a mouse held up by the tail. His scattered memory produced a name, an important name, a name he had to remember at all costs, a name he'd chanted to himself in the dark, praying he could hold on to this one, most important memory.

"Gautier."

The man paused and faced him. "What was that?"

"House Gautier," Ashe said. Why had he yelled that? No, it was important. He just had to remember why. "I... no, my... my siblings. My brother and sister. Rowan and Fina. They live with Margrave Gautier. Ask him. His son is..." Why did the names keep slipping away? It felt like trying to catch fish with his bare hands. "His son is... Sylvain Gautier. Ask him. He will tell you. He knows me." 

The man with the sword seemed to think over this for a moment. "Very well," he said. Then he motioned and Ashe was dragged away, still chanting the name "Gautier" over and over.

#

It was almost a comfort to be back in a small, windowless cell.

It smelled better than the one the mages had kept him in, Ashe though bitterly. He had a bit of straw to sleep on. They even brought him a meal and fresh water every day. 

The worst part was the not knowing. What was going on outside that door? Why were they keeping him? At some point, they'd told him that they'd alerted kingdom soldiers that he was a spy. Ashe didn't know what that meant, however. Would they execute him for being Edelgard's spy? 

He laughed, the sound harsh and crooked in the dark, still room. Executed as Edelgard's spy after finally escaping back to Fodlan. What an end. 

Every chance he got, he repeated the name "Gautier," praying that somehow that word escaped, traveling via reports or letters or soldiers or any other means possible. Gautier, where Rowan and Fina hopefully still lived. Goddess, if nothing else happened, please let his siblings be safe. Please let Sylvain remember him enough to look after them when he was gone. He'd thought he was doing his best for Rowan and Fina before he left for Garreg Mach, but it seemed at every turn he only let them down. Perhaps the Margrave and his son were better caretakers than Ashe had been. 

Would Rowan and Fina even remember him? Would Sylvain? Would they care? Perhaps Ashe had faded out of all of their minds, just as they'd been beaten out of his. 

He struggled to remember his former comrades; the faces trickled back slowly. He had little else to do with his time aside from try to remember, painful as that sometimes was. The Blue Lions. Garreg Mach. Even the Battle of Enbarr. It all felt like another lifetime, a distant story about someone else. Surely, it could not have been him wandering the halls of the monastery, learning to shoot a bow, dreaming of becoming a knight because of the silly stories in his silly books. 

Well, perhaps not _only_ because of his books. 

Felix.

The name came back more easily than most. He still remembered the swordsman's face, his burning amber eyes, his blue-black hair always swept back and tightly controlled. 

_Your stupid book. I finished it._

He could still hear that voice, perfectly preserved in his otherwise shattered and shaky recollections. 

_Please don't die. Please. They all die._

"I'm alive," he whispered, sending a prayer off into the winds, hoping it somehow reached Felix. He'd kept his promise. He'd lived. Through the imprisonment. Through the beatings. Through the starvation, the pain, the thirst, the sleepless nights of shivering in fear at what new torment they'd come up with next. He'd survived all of it. He'd kept his word, no matter how sweet death had sometimes seemed. At times, it felt like keeping that promise was the only reason why.

And now he was back in Fodlan, where Felix, he presumed, also was. Where would he be now? It seemed the war had ended, but Ashe struggled to imagine Felix without a battle to fight. Perhaps he was wandering the countryside like a knight from a story. Ashe could imagine him roaming the land, fighting whatever evil he encountered, saving villages from bandits and rescuing maidens. 

Ashe smiled at the thought. It felt strange, unnatural. Had he smiled in the past year? Like so much else, the memory was murky. 

He reached anyway, teasing out little details. Trying to watch Felix train without getting caught, admiring every smooth, graceful movement. He could still recall the way Felix moved. Even when walking casually, he looked precise and deadly. 

Ashe shivered, but not from the cold of the cell. In fact, he felt warmer than he had at any time in the past year, a familiar, old heat. It was like a candle, nearly snuffed, slowly rebuilding itself. He'd nearly lost this sensation among the nightmare his life had become. But he coaxed it out now as he watched Felix pace the halls of Garreg Mach. 

He closed his eyes, falling into the daydream. _I've found your weakness, Ubert,_ Felix breathed into his ear. A prickle rippled down his neck. He ran his fingertips lightly over his own neck and felt goosebumps trailing along the skin Felix had once kissed in order to tease him. 

It worked, even as a half-buried memory. Ashe's body stirred in ways it hadn't in a year. He felt his heart beat faster, but it was not from fear this time. A pleasant warmth chased the cold from his fingers and toes and heated his cheeks. He put a hand on his chest, feeling the life still pulsing through him somehow. Goddess, Felix would probably laugh at him if he could see him now. On the verge of death and still pining after him after all these years. 

Even that thought was sweet and lovely, however. Felix didn't mock him with venom, but rather with fear. Fear of Ashe? Fear of whatever had chased them apart all these years? Ashe didn't know, suspected he never would, but he didn't care. He smiled, recalling Felix at once assertive, snatching Ashe into his bedroom, and utterly terrified. 

_I've thought about it too._

The closest to a confession Ashe had ever gotten. He cloaked himself in those softly spoken words, clinging them close to his chest. 

He let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to see Felix again. Perhaps the war had never happened; perhaps Enbarr was just a bad dream. Perhaps they were both free, riding all over Fodlan, sleeping beside each other as the embers of their campfire died. 

And maybe, sometimes, when they were far from everyone else, alone in the woods where no one would find them, maybe they slept even closer, their arms around each other, sharing heat. At those times, Felix would throw the blankets over both of them and pull Ashe close and hold him by the chin as they kissed in the night. Ashe could still feel Felix's lips against his own, the smell of leather and iron burned onto his mind. 

Felix would press against him harder and grab his hair, short and neat as it used to be, rather than long and scraggly like it was now. 

Ashe ran his hand down his body. He could almost believe it was Felix's and not his own. The strangeness of a kind hand against him, even his own, let him pretend it did not belong to him. 

Still, he was surprised when he reached into his tattered trousers and felt himself respond. Surprised he _could_ respond. 

He had a moment of hesitation, of wondering if this wasn't a terrible waste of what was likely the end of his life. 

_Do you want this or not, Ubert?_ Felix snapped. 

And he did. Goddess help him, but if he was only going to live another week, or day, or hour, he wanted to spend it indulging in the fantasy that the hand on his cock was Felix's, one final moment of absurd bliss, one last look into burning amber eyes. 

He stroked, almost afraid of how his body would respond. It was a struggle to relax, but he squeezed his eyes tighter shut and thought of Felix. Felix pushing him up against a wall. Felix shoving him in a broom closet. Felix kneeling to suck his cock. 

The last memory struck him with startling clarity. He could still see the war room. He could still feel Felix's hand at his hip, pressing him back against the wall so Ashe had to endure Felix's mouth and tongue. His own hand was a poor imitation, but Ashe was warm all over and breathing hard anyway. 

Ashe squirmed against the straw beneath him. His feet pressed against the floor so he could push into his own hand. He was losing his grip on his own fantasy as the sensation of his hand overwhelmed his mind. 

There was one image that burst through, clear and sharp. And once again Felix was looking up at him, amber eyes bright as they bore into him. 

Ashe gasped. His stomach felt tight. His cock twitched in his hand. He bit his lip to silence a whimper. 

"Felix," he breathed, a plea, a prayer, his last wish. "Felix." He released that name into the air, feeling it echo through him, the sweetest sound he knew. 

And for a moment, Felix was there, leaning over him, kissing his neck, adding his hand to Ashe's to help push him over the edge. 

He sighed as he came in his hand, then lay panting and sweating in the straw. Ashe held on as long as he could, keeping his eyes closed and one hand pressed against his chest as though trying to trap the heat already evaporating off him. 

The moment passed all too soon. He wiped his hand on a bit straw that he buried beneath the rest, then huddled on the floor, suddenly colder than he'd been during all the long misery of the past year.

#

He knew they meant to execute him when they started building the gallows.

By all appearances, the village holding him was too small to have bothered with such a thing before. But now they brought in wood and cut it into boards and began building the scaffolding where Ashe would hang. 

He probably had a few days, he reasoned. He wasn't sure what had changed their minds about him. Perhaps the kingdom soldier they'd informed had never passed on their information. Perhaps it was simply taking too long to get a reply. 

Whatever the reason, they'd apparently tired of their "spy." 

Therefore, when someone pounded on the door of the cell, Ashe pushed himself back against the wall. He would not cry or beg; he'd die with at least that much dignity. But he could not help pressing as far away from the door as he could when it rattled. 

Ashe heard shouting in the hall beyond the cell. He struggled onto shaky legs. He'd meet them standing. He wouldn't be a coward in his final moments, for whatever that was still worth. 

The door creaked on its hinges. He heard more shouting and the sounds of a scuffle. There was a thud, as though a body had hit the ground. Still, the door groaned and rattled. 

The shaking stopped for a moment. Then the door burst off its hinges, kicked in to slam against the wall. 

Ashe put his hands up against the light that suddenly flooded the cell. Yet no one stormed in to grab him. His eyes were still watering when he peeked past his hands. 

A lithe figure filled the narrow doorway, two swords at their hip. 

Ashe blinked rapidly, gasping. His eyes trailed up dark spats, blue pants, a short cape fringed in fur. They rose, impossibly, to find Felix. 

Ashe's hands quivered as he lowered them. His mouth hung open, but he could not seem to draw a full breath. His heart felt like it was beating so fast it would explode. He went cold, even as blood coursed through him with frantic urgency. He pressed against the wall behind him, reaching for the frigid, awful solidity of the stone. Reaching for something real. Because this--the sight of Felix before him--certainly had to be dream.

Felix paused in the doorway. His eyes were wide, his hand lingering at the hilt of one of his swords, as still as a statue. 

They stood frozen, staring at each other from across the cell. Ashe kept blinking, but the image didn't change or fade. How many times had he imagined just this? How many dreams had he had in which Felix burst in to rescue him? He refused to believe it was real. 

Then Felix strode toward him, two long, quick steps. He pulled Ashe away from the wall and against his body, grabbing his hair in a grip all at once gentle and firm and kissing him as though he was trying to steal his breath. 

Ashe threw his arms around Felix's shoulders and kissed him back. He smelled leather and iron, but how could it be? If it weren't for Felix's hands gripping him so hard it nearly hurt, he would have believed this were just another fantasy, a fevered dream before he died. Yet the lips against his were familiar, so wonderfully, blissfully familiar. He knew this taste. He knew the feel of these shoulders under his hands. He knew the smell all around him now, so warm and comforting it made his head light. 

Felix eased out of the kiss slowly, reluctantly, lingering as long as he could, but he kept Ashe close. Ashe reached, touching the hard planes of the swordsman's face, feeling the warmth in his cheeks. His fingers quivered over that familiar skin as he gazed into amber eyes. 

"How?" he breathed. 

"Gautier," Felix said. 

Finally, Ashe looked past Felix. And there they were. Ingrid in all her armor. Annette, crying quietly. And Sylvain. Sylvain Gautier, who hadn't forgotten. 

Felix released him as Annette approached. Thick tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, Ashe," she said. "My Ashe." 

She fell against him and he pressed his face against her hair. The tears finally came as he held her. She clung to him as though trying to squeeze all the hurt of the past year out of his bones. And in some measure, she succeeded. It was almost like a bad dream, a half-forgotten nightmare, all those days of captivity and hurt and hunger. When Annette hugged him, it seemed like all that evil belonged to a different world and a different life. Surely it could not exist beside such sweetness.

He scrubbed at his face after another moment and gently broke their embrace. 

Ashe faced Sylvain and Ingrid. Ingrid was smiling softly at him, but Sylvain's face was a storm. Ashe could see him clenching his jaw, biting something back. 

Sylvain approached. He put a hand on Ashe's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

"Sylvain," Ashe said. "Sylvain Gautier." The name that had saved his life. The prayer that had flown all the way north to the man before him now. "Thank you." 

Sylvain tried to smile, but it looked pained. "They're safe," he said. "Rowan and Fina are doing well." 

"Oh goddess," Ashe breathed. His voice shook as he thought of his siblings. 

"You did well," Sylvain said. His pained smile softened into sadness. He kissed Ashe's forehead before stepping away. 

"Ashe," Annette said, tugging at his hand. "You need healing. I can't do much, but I can try." 

He nodded and a moment later felt something cool and sweet flow through him. It was as though a trickle of fresh water passed through his body, carrying pain and injury away. There was still plenty of damage it could not touch, hurts nearly a year old and far, far deeper, but Ashe sighed with relief as Annette's healing spell flushed through him. 

He stumbled as it passed and Felix caught him by the shoulder. Before he could protest, Felix lifted him into his arms. 

"You're too light," Felix said. 

Ashe didn't respond. He knew well he was probably painfully thin. He didn't want to think about it just then. Goddess, it felt good to be in Felix's arms, against his chest. Ashe hugged Felix's neck as his eyelids drooped, suddenly as heavy as boulders. 

"He needs rest," Annette said. Her voice swam outside him somewhere. "Healing isn't free. His body had to work hard for that. He's probably exhausted." 

"Let's get him out of here," Sylvain said. 

Ashe lost the rest of their words, his head drooping against Felix's chest as the swordsman carried him out of the cell at last. With his final breath of consciousness, Ashe prayed it wasn't just a dream. 

"Felix." Another prayer, a prayer of thanks, of complete surrender. 

He heard a soft response, a breath against his hair. "Ashe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I thought it would be really weird to throw a masturbation scene into this chapter, but when I thought about what I'd want to do if I thought I was about to die, rubbing one out while thinking about someone I love actually sounded really sweet and comforting at a pretty dire time. So have some heart-warming masturbation? Or something? I don't know anymore, y'all.
> 
> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover)
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


	9. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashe and Felix finally get to reunite, but it's past time Felix comes clean about the tangled mess that led them both here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the end. Long, sappy message to all you beautiful people at the end. I definitely didn't start this planning to end it on Ashe's birthday, but, uh, happy birthday? 
> 
> SPOILERS: Blue Lions.

"We found him," Ingrid called through Felix's bedroom door. "We found Ashe."

Felix froze, still hunched over Annette. Then they both sprang into action, leaping off his bed, scrambling to find their clothes. 

Felix had only managed to acquire pants when he threw his door open and saw Ingrid and Sylvain in the hall outside his room in Fraldarius. Ingrid quirked an eyebrow at his bare chest. 

Sylvain grimaced at Felix, but there wasn't time for his petty jealousy. "Where?" Felix said.

"South," Ingrid began. She explained the messenger from the village, the "spy" who'd appeared one day invoking the name Gautier. 

Felix was dressed before she finished. He rushed past her, buckling swordbelts around his hips. 

"Hey, wait," Sylvain called, chasing after him. 

Felix did not so much as slow. He'd reached the stairs before Sylvain got a hand on his arm and spun him around.

"It's the middle of the night," Sylvain said. "Wait a damn minute, will you? We'll all go together first thing in the morning."

Felix yanked his arm free. "There isn't time for that."

"Felix, please," Sylvain said. 

"Did you hear her?" He was yelling now, his voice echoing in the dark, quiet hall. "A spy. What do you think they'll do to someone they believe is a spy for Edelgard?"

Sylvain didn't reply, but even in the dim light Felix could see him go pale. When Felix turned away, no one hindered him. 

Sylvian, Ingrid and Annette followed him from the keep, into the stables where he saddled his swiftest horses and out into the pitch black darkness of Fodlan, flying south as fast as they could.

#

Felix carried Ashe from the cell. He should have been heavy, almost too heavy to lift. They'd once been the same size. Now, Ashe felt like a doll in his arms, terrifyingly light.

He started back up the hall they'd entered through. Annette walked behind him, watchful, while Sylvain and Ingrid pushed ahead, knives at the ready. 

Ingrid turned a corner. Felix heard something hit the wall, then a strangled cry. When he reached her, he saw Ingrid with her knife against a tall, bald man's throat. He snarled down at her. 

"What are you doing?" the man growled. "That man is a spy, one of Edelgard's men come to betray us all." 

"And the one who carries him is the Duke of Fraldarius," Ingrid said. "You will choose your next words carefully." 

The bald man's eyes went wide when he looked at Felix, his face draining of blood. "But--"

He choked on the rest of the sentence. Sylvain had stepped forward, delivering a swift kick to the man's groin. He collapsed to the floor when Ingrid released him, holding himself and wheezing. 

"Let's go," Sylvain said. 

They escaped the dingy building that served all the administrative purposes of the entire village. Felix could feel the villagers watching the strange, heavily armed party, but none of them made any move to interfere as the group unhitched their horses. Felix started to lift Ashe up onto his saddle.

"Let me help," Sylvain said. 

They got Ashe into the saddle, but he sagged forward.

"I've got him," Sylvain said. "Go ahead." He tried to smile at Felix, but sadness shot through it, turning it into a fleeting grimace. Still, Sylvain squeezed Felix's shoulder. "Go on." 

Felix gave him a nod before swinging up into the saddle. He owed him more, even Felix knew that, but he couldn't spare Sylvain just now, couldn't undo the damage he'd done there. Felix wasn't even sure he could save Ashe at this point. He had to hold Ashe tightly against him to keep the other man from sliding back down to the ground, he was so limp and exhausted. 

"Where are we going?" Felix said as the others mounted up. 

"I know a place," Ingrid said. "It's a bit of a ride, but it's the safest town I know of this far south." 

Felix nodded. Ingrid had warned them of the rumblings still echoing around the south, rumblings that left the five of them in tremendous danger if they happened upon a town or village still secretly loyal to Edelgard. 

Ingrid nudged her horse, leading the way out of the village. Felix hastened to follow, one arm holding Ashe against him.

#

Ashe remained in bed for weeks. Healers visited every day, worrying over him, doing what they could. But his body healed slowly and his mind even more reluctantly.

Felix stayed with him every day, helping him work through memories and names and faces. He let Felix and Annette touch him, but fought the healers in the beginning. That first day, Felix had to hold him down while the healers worked and all the while Ashe cried and thrashed, begging Felix to release him, sure the mages were there to do things Felix dared not imagine. 

Gradually, Ashe learned not to fear the healers, not to jump every time a door opened, not to expect some threat to arrive along with each plate of food. 

Felix never pressed Ashe for the details of what had happened during the Battle in Enbarr and the following year, but slowly Ashe started offering pieces of the story on his own. 

When the mages turned on Ashe during the battle, they'd hit him from every side. He'd struck the ground senseless with pain. Before he could get his bearings, they'd dragged him off and bundled him up. Ashe didn't know where they were taking him at the time, but it seemed the mages had seen the battle turn and decided to escape once they had a valuable prisoner in their hands. 

Felix balled his hands into fists as he sat beside Ashe. In his blind rage, he'd charged deeper into the battle, never realizing he was running away from Ashe rather than toward him. His stupid, mindless rage had carried him exactly the wrong way. It all might have been avoided, every horrible thing Ashe had suffered in the past year, if Felix had just run the other way, if he'd just stopped to think instead of rushing in killing whatever was in reach. 

"I'm sorry," he said to the quiet room. 

"Hm?" 

He startled and found Ashe watching him from the bed. He did that often now, just lied there staring at Felix as though remembering him piece by piece. It was unsettling, yet Felix suspected it was part of the healing his mind so desperately needed, so he ignored it. 

"You're awake," Felix said. 

The healers had come again that afternoon. The process usually knocked Ashe out for the rest of the day. Felix took it as a good sign that he was awake again already. 

"You were talking to yourself," Ashe said. 

Felix shook his head. "How do you feel?" 

"Good," Ashe said. "I would like to go for a walk." 

"Is that OK?"

"I don't know," Ashe admitted. "But I'd like to try." 

"Alright." 

Felix helped him out of the bed and into the warm clothes they'd purchased in the town to replace the rags he'd arrived in. He still looked too thin, but he'd regained some weight under the careful attention of the healers--and Annette. He'd look like himself again if it wasn't for his long hair. It fell just past his shoulders after a year of being ignored. 

The night was cool and smelled of salt water when they stepped outside. Ashe huddled in a cloak. He set a slow pace after being still for so long. 

For a time, they simply walked, Ashe constantly scanning in a way that worried Felix. 

"Hey," Ashe said, "you know what?"

"Hm?"

"I kept my promise." He smiled over at Felix. 

"What promise?" 

"To live."

Felix watched his feet, swallowing around a lump. That had been his fault. That stupid promise. And he hadn't even helped Ashe keep it. He'd just let him suffer for a year instead. 

"There were a lot of really bad times in the past year," Ashe said. "Sometimes, I thought I couldn't possibly go on. But then I remembered that I made you that promise and I knew I had to find a way."

Felix was grinding his teeth. "I'm sorry." 

"Sorry?" 

"I forced you to make that stupid promise." 

"Felix." Ashe put a hand on his arm, stopping them both. "You kept me alive. You didn't even know it, but you did. You're the reason I'm here now." 

Ashe slipped his hand into Felix's. When he smiled, it took Felix back a year and more, to before they were both hurt and struggling to go on. 

"Is Sylvain OK?" Ashe asked suddenly. 

The shift in topic smacked Felix in the chest. He grimaced. 

"He doesn't seem OK," Ashe said. 

"He probably isn't," Felix admitted. 

"Can I help?" 

Felix looked down before he laughed, but Ashe still caught him. 

"Hey," Ashe said, "why's that funny?" 

"You would try to help, even falling off your feet, barely recovered."

"He's my friend," Ashe said. "And he helped save me too. If there's something I could do..."

Felix just shook his head. This wasn't the time to explain Sylvain.

"Alright," Ashe said, patient as ever with Felix's silence. "I'm a bit tired already. I'm sorry. Can we go back?"

Felix led him back to the inn where they'd been staying for the long weeks of Ashe's recovery. They kept their hands clasped the entire way. It was to make sure Ashe didn't stumble or fall, Felix told himself, though he felt a twinge of heat color his cheeks as he thought of Ashe's hand in his. How stupid, after all this, to get flustered by so simple a thing. 

He dropped Ashe's hand when they entered the common room and found Ingrid, Sylvain and Annette inside. Why? Why was he doing these things still? Were any of them fooled? Between the five of them, what secrets were left? 

Yet Felix stood with his arms crossed as Ashe chatted with the others and let Annette fuss over him. 

"He should be in bed, Felix," Annette said. 

"It's OK. I asked," Ashe said. "It felt nice to go outside."

"Oh, but what if you got sick? Or fell? Or couldn't make it back?"

"Felix would help me," Ashe said simply. 

Felix scowled at the floor as he felt color rise up his neck. Even as he did, Ashe wavered a little. Felix caught him by the shoulders, quick as a pouncing cat. 

"Sorry," Ashe said. "A little dizzy." 

"Better get him back upstairs before I scoop him up and do it for you," Sylvain said. 

He laughed, trying to sound like his old self, but there was a weariness undercutting his words. As well there should be. Sylvain had made the round trip between the town and Gautier three times during the stay, accompanied by Ingrid. He was the only reason half the kingdom army wasn't storming the town dragging Felix away by force. For Sylvain had not only reassured Ashe's siblings that their brother lived, he also let Gautier and Fraldarius know that the missing duke was safe and accounted for. 

Even so, each time he left, Sylvain stayed away longer and returned with a more dire report. Fraldarius was restless, impatient. They would not tolerate Felix's sudden and unexplained disappearance much longer. The Margrave managed to maintain order in both territories for the moment, but Andres would not wait much longer. 

Felix's mouth tasted sour by the time he got Ashe upstairs. He helped Ashe sit on the bed and pulled off his shoes. 

Ashe put a hand on his shoulder as Felix knelt before him, tugging his shoes off. "Are you OK? You look worse than me right now." 

"Just tired," Felix said.

"That's a lie," Ashe said. His voice carried no venom. As ever, he observed Felix keenly but without malice or judgment, cutting right through the bullshit that usually deflected others.

Felix sighed, sitting back on his heels and looking up at Ashe on the bed. "It's time I honored our bargain," he said.

Ashe cocked his head to the side, confused. 

Felix sat beside him on the bed. "I swore I'd tell you everything if we both got out of Enbarr. Well, here we are." 

"It's OK, Felix," Ashe said. "I don't care what the reason was. It doesn't matter anymore." 

"I wish that were true," Felix said quietly. 

Ashe reached over to take his hand. Felix looked at the floor as he spoke. 

"When we leave here," he said, "I don't think I can stay with you. I have to return to Fraldarius, but you should go with Sylvain to Gautier. You shouldn't come with me." 

When Ashe spoke, his voice was stretched tight. "Why?"

Felix scowled at the floor, grinding his teeth. He wanted to scream with the years of pent up frustration. After all this, he had to hurt Ashe again. He shoved the anger inside, where it had always gone to lurk and fester and grow. His crest flared up easily when he reached for it. A flash of blue lit the room before the crest quieted. 

"Because of that," he said. 

Ashe said nothing, just sat silently beside him, holding his hand, waiting but not demanding. Felix took a shaky breath and, finally, he spoke:

"It should have been Glenn," he said. "All our lives, it was always supposed to be Glenn. They trained him the moment he could walk. Me, they ignored. I wanted to fight; Glenn wanted to lead. And that was just as well for them. I could be a soldier fighting under my brother's banner as long as he was there to rule. 

"But Glenn died. And everything changed." 

Ashe gave his hand a little squeeze. Felix pressed on.

"They called it heroic," he said. "That was the worst part. They called it noble like there was any meaning for his death. My own father described it that way, pretending like it mattered, pretending Glenn wasn't slaughtered like any other soldier dying for no good reason on a battlefield.

"Dimitri was no better. In Enbarr, he said the same about you. He didn't even try. 'Don't let it be for naught,' he said. We didn't even know if you were dead or not yet." 

"It's OK," Ashe said. "It's not Dimitri's fault. He had a war to win." 

"That's not good enough," Felix shouted at the floor. He was holding Ashe's hand too hard. He forced his grip to relax, forced his breaths to slow. "None of this had to happen."

"But it did," Ashe said gently. "And we're here. Please, finish your story." Again, that patient silence fell, light despite the weight of Ashe watching him intently. 

Felix exhaled through his nose, shoving the thought of Dimitri aside. A problem for another day. 

"Glenn died," he said. "But even then, they hoped to avoid me. They knew I had certain... proclivities. I didn't care. All I wanted to do was fight. By the time we were at Garreg Mach, I thought I'd run out of opponents worth my time. I always needed someone stronger, someone who could match me, someone who could push me.

"My father's advisers tried to persuade him to have another child. They preferred a newborn bastard over me. But Rodrigue was too devoted to Dimitri.

"When my father died, they had no choice. We were in the middle of a war and they were sending me letters about the daughters of lords and knights."

Ashe let out a small gasp. "So, that's what changed." 

Felix finally looked up at him. 

"Something changed back then, but I didn't know what," Ashe said. "You were... almost frantic. Scared. I couldn't figure it out. We were in the middle of a war, but I was your enemy." 

Felix grimaced. "You weren't my enemy. I just..." 

"I know."

"It's not over," Felix said. "They've only become more persistent in the past year. They need this blood in order to continue ruling Fraldarius."

"What happens if you don't give it to them?" Ashe said.

Felix shook his head.

Ashe pushed. "Couldn't we fight? Couldn't we just tell them no? I could go with you and we could figure out a new way to rule Fraldarius. Why does it even need to be you? Is that even what you wa--"

"No," Felix cut in. "You don't understand."

"Then tell me, please. Why is it impossible for us to stay together?"

"It's Fraldarius, Ashe. If you can't wield a blade, you're worthless. If you went there, if they knew about you, they would _remove_ the obstacle." 

Ashe's face paled. 

"I can't stop them, not forever," Felix said. "I can't protect you if you come to Fraldarius. You must go to Gautier. Or somewhere, anywhere, else. Just not Fraldarius. Please." 

He held Ashe's gaze, pleading with him, praying he understood. A tear slipped down Ashe's cheek. 

"What if you came to visit me?" Ashe said. "What if I lived in Gautier and you came to visit?" 

"They'd find out, eventually," Felix said. 

"What if you did take one these wives they want you to, but came to see me when you could?"

"Do you really want to live that way?" Felix said. "Could you? Could I?" He reached up to wipe the tear from Ashe's cheek. "They'd see through it. You'd be a prisoner again, leverage they could use against me for anything they wanted. I'm not going to do that to you."

Ashe took a shaky breath, gathering himself. For a long time, they sat there, Ashe crying quietly, Felix unable to do anything but watch. His chest felt tight, yet he was only telling Ashe the truth, just as he'd promised. 

"Can we pretend?" Ashe said quietly. "Right here. Right now."

"Pretend what?" He didn't want to pretend. Not anymore. Not with Ashe. Yet here he was, once again playing out a fantasy. At least this one was shared.

"That it's all going to be OK," Ashe said. He smiled up at Felix. "That you're my dashing knight and you saved me and we'll never have to be apart again. Please. Just for tonight." 

Felix wiped the wetness off Ashe's cheeks. "I'll try." 

When Ashe pulled him close, Felix could taste the tears in his kiss. There was a desperation to it, a yearning that had nothing to do with lust. Ashe pushed on, determined, gripping the back of Felix's neck to press them even closer. He slid nearer on the bed, angling his body toward Felix. 

Felix struggled to forget, even with Ashe's lips against his. He breathed in, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. Felix snatched Ashe against him, trying to get their bodies closer yet, trying to pretend it was only desire that drove him. 

They fell back on the bed, legs entangled, lying on their sides to face each other. Ashe reached under Felix's shirt and Felix shuddered. Lifetimes had passed in the time since he'd felt those hands on his body savoring the feel of his skin. 

"Wait," Felix said. "Is this OK? You're still recovering."

"Shh," Ashe said, pressing a finger against Felix's lips. "I'll tell you if something isn't OK. Shut up now and touch me." 

Felix hastened to obey, pushing Ashe onto his back. He felt the goosebumps the moment he kissed up Ashe's neck. Then he flicked his tongue out, searching for a spot burned onto his memory. It took a moment, then Ashe gasped, arching up into him. He smiled against Ashe's neck. 

Ashe's ragged breaths turned into soft laughter. "You remember," he said.

Felix responded by taking Ashe's earlobe in his teeth and tugging. He trailed down Ashe's neck even as he pushed up his shirt. Ashe's chest was not as full as it should have been, his arms still too thin. Felix threw the shirt aside and thought no more about it. More problems for other days. 

Right now, he needed clothes to disappear, needed to feel skin under his hands and lips. He dispensed with his own shirt quickly. He straddled Ashe, who looked up at him as though seeing him for the first time. 

Felix paused and Ashe ran his hands up Felix's body, sitting up to reach higher. Ashe's fingertips wandered over Felix's chest and shoulders and back as though reading and memorizing every detail. And perhaps, this time, he was. 

Finally, Ashe reached his neck and face. Felix leaned forward to kiss him, guiding them back down onto the mattress. As they ground against each other, Felix ran a hand down Ashe's leg, hiking it up so he could feel all of Ashe against him. Their pants proved a frustrating barrier. After waiting so long, aching so long, believing this craving within him would never be satisfied again, Felix could wait no longer. 

"I need you," he said. "Now." 

He nearly tore the rest of their garments off, flinging them across the room. Then Felix went back to Ashe's neck. And because it truly did not matter anymore, because nothing mattered anymore, because the moment would shatter as soon as they woke up, he sucked--hard. Ashe yelped, jerking up against him, clawing at his back. When Felix relented, red already marked the place where his mouth had been. 

Felix reached his hand down and found Ashe ready and eager against his palm. But as he stroked, Ashe grabbed his shoulders.

"Wait," he panted. Ashe reached up, tugging at the tie binding Felix's hair. It fell loose, a cascade of blue-black that tumbled past Felix's shoulders and onto Ashe's chest. 

Ashe ran his fingers through the silky strands. "I always wanted to do that," he said. He tugged the hair to bring Felix back to his lips. 

Felix ran his hand along Ashe's cock as they kissed and felt a moan in his mouth. He could almost taste the sound, a treasure nearly lost, a gift he'd buried deep in his body for safe keeping. Felix kept stroking, eliciting more delicious little noises. 

When they broke apart, they both looked to the jar on the bedside table. A gift from Sylvain. Ashe had turned bright red when Sylvain insisted on leaving it behind; Felix had scoffed. He reached for it now. When his hand returned to Ashe's cock, it was slick. 

Ashe started to shift, but Felix kept him in place with a hand to his chest. He took Ashe's hand in his own, getting it slick before guiding it around him. 

Ashe's fingers meandered. Was Ashe actually drawing it out, toying with him when he was practically begging for it? Felix looked down to see Ashe biting at his lip. 

Finally, a finger slipped inside Felix, then a second. He exhaled a sigh, moving his hips back against Ashe's hand. Even as he did, he regripped Ashe's cock, stroking it in a long, smooth motion. Ashe struggled to still reach inside Felix as he shuddered. 

Felix's patience snapped. He moved Ashe's hand aside and reached back into the jar of lube, using his own fingers to prepare himself. Then he sat over Ashe and held his cock as he guided himself onto it. 

"Oh," Ashe gasped, surprise and desire snatching his breath away. 

Felix lowered slowly, feeling more and more of Ashe inside him. He had his hands on either side of Ashe's head as he hunched over, breathing into the sensation of Ashe's cock filling him completely. 

"Fuck," he breathed. "Goddess."

"Hey," Ashe said, tugging a silky ribbon of his long, loose hair. "She didn't do this." 

Felix huffed a laugh. It made him clench around Ashe, who sucked in a sharp breath, chewing at his lip again. 

Felix started to move, pressing his hands against Ashe's chest as he worked up and down his cock. He'd thought he was prepared for this, but his imagination hardly skimmed the surface of the reality. The whole world was Ashe for a time, Ashe whimpering below him, Ashe twitching inside him, Ashe grabbing at his hair and pulling with a force that sent a tremor through his whole body. Felix tested every angle and felt Ashe's cock pressing ever more sweetly inside him. It made him quiver and moan as he hit a place inside himself that ached for release. 

Ashe planted his feet, pushing up into Felix, tugging Felix down by the hair. Felix folded forward, his chest on Ashe's as the other man thrust into him. Somehow, it was never enough. Even as he gasped and cursed, he needed more. 

"Harder," he pleaded.

Ashe gripped his hip even as he pulled harder at his hair. They moved frantically against each other, desperately, grunting and swearing and moaning as the sweet ecstasy took hold. 

Suddenly, it seemed the moment would arrive all too soon. Felix felt it rushing at him, threatening to spill over any second. A year and more of hopeless longing, of frustration, of searching for this blissful oblivion and never finding it. It surged up in a burst and Felix nearly choked. 

Felix longed to force this miraculous space to linger forever, but Ashe's cock inside him was becoming too much. A warm tide rose within him and he cried out with pleasure and fear and need and despair. 

Ashe's cry matched his own. Ashe arched up, twitching and shaking, his nails biting into Felix as they both found release, then collapsed against each other, boneless and sweating, their bodies entangled.

Afterward, they curled up together in the bed where Ashe was still recovering, holding each other close. Pretending they'd never need to part.

#

Felix did not dream. He fell into a deep, unburdened sleep with Ashe in his arms.

It nearly cost both of them their lives.

By the time the noise of the intruder prickled through the warm haze in Felix's mind, the knife was already raised. 

Felix had only an instant to blink awake and comprehend the weapon hanging over Ashe. He did the only thing he could in that moment, which was to shove Ashe off the bed as the knife came down, stabbing into the mattress. 

Ashe hit the floor with a thud. Felix sprang up, leaping at the person wielding the knife.

They tumbled to the ground in a heap. Felix was still naked; sharp bites of pain tore his bare skin as he grappled with the intruder, struggling to get control of the knife. But the intruder was prepared, and dressed, and not barely awoken from the most peaceful sleep of their life. Felix couldn't seem to keep control on any limb long enough to gain the advantage. 

The intruder rolled, pinning Felix to the floor. A moment later the dark figure shouted as something struck their head. Ashe stood over them, panting, a shoe in his hand. 

Felix could not pause to puzzle over the moment. He wrenched the knife from the attacker's hand before they could recover, then stabbed it through their abdomen. 

The intruder screamed, clawing at Felix, but Felix gripped them tight, not releasing the knife as blood gushed out onto his hands. 

"Fe..." the intruder gasped. "Felix..."

They said no more, convulsing as they died in Felix's hold. 

Felix rose, quivering, blood splattered down his naked body. The door opened an instant later. Sylvain froze in the entrance, gasping at the sight of Felix. Ingrid and Annette rushed in around him. Annette yelped at the sight of the dead intruder, putting her hands over her mouth as her skin flushed green. 

"We need to go," Felix said before anyone else could speak. He started dressing immediately, throwing Ashe's clothes at him. 

The others still stood stunned. 

"They're dead," Annette said. "Oh goddess. They're dead." 

"What happened?" Ingrid said. 

"Are you OK?" Sylvain said. 

"We're fine," Felix snapped. "But we need to go. Now."

He grabbed Ashe by the wrist and led him out of the room. They had nothing but their clothing, but there wasn't time for more. Felix rushed down the stairs and through the common room of the inn. 

Sylvain finally caught him in the stable, holding him by the arm. "What the hell happened up there?"

"Fraldarius," Felix said. 

Sylvain's face went pale. 

"What does that mean?" Ashe said. 

"They're done waiting," Felix said. "They know."

Ashe's eyes widened, but still, he asked, "Know what?"

"They're going to remove the distraction," Felix said. "I was too lax. I should have predicted this. You aren't safe here anymore."

"Then... what will we do?" Ashe said. 

Felix shrugged out of Sylvain's hold and started preparing horses. Sylvain hurried to help. 

"We're going to run," Felix said. "We have no choice."

"Run?" 

Annette and Ingrid had finally made it to the stable. Annette watched the frantic preparations in confusion but Ingrid, goddess bless her, leapt into action. 

"If there was one, there are more," Felix said. 

"One what?" Annette said. "What in the world is going on?"

Felix focused on getting the horses ready as Ashe tried to explain.

"They're from Fraldarius," Ashe was saying. "They want Felix back. They want... they'd like it if he got a wife." 

"Andres," Annette said. "Felix, Andres sent that man? He tried to kill you?"

"Not me," Felix said, handing reins to Ashe. "Only Ashe." 

Annette was shaking her head. "Do they really think that would work? That you'd just go back and do what they want if they killed him?"

"They think I'd have no choice," Felix said. He didn't want to imagine how Andres might force him to do what they want once they removed Ashe, so he focused instead on getting the group and their horses outside.

They clustered outside the stable with their four horses (and one extra, stolen for Ashe). Felix helped Ashe up onto his horse, then swung onto his own saddle. By the time he'd done this, Sylvain, Ingrid and Annette were also mounted, watching him expectantly. 

"Ashe and I need to go," Felix said.

"Where?" Annette said.

"I don't know," Felix said. "Not here. Not Fraldarius. Somewhere they can't find us."

"I'll go with you," Sylvain said.

"You can't," Felix said. Sylvain looked hurt, but Felix pressed on. "There are too many people depending on you back in Gautier. They need you." 

"I need..." Sylvain started, but the sentence died. His face twisted. He looked down, trying to conceal the struggle distorting his features. Then, finally, he nodded. Sylvain looked past Felix, to Ashe. "I'll look after Rowan and Fina. I swear. And you look after Felix for me." 

"I will," Ashe said. "I swear."

A terrible battle still tortured Sylvain's mouth, but he nodded. "Ingrid, Annette, we need to get back to Gautier before this can get worse. We might be able to stop Fraldarius sending more."

Ingrid nodded.

"I'm going with them," Annette said. 

All eyes turned to the small woman. 

"Ashe, Felix... I'm coming with you," she said.

"You can't," Felix said.

"Annette, it's dangerous," Ashe pleaded.

"And how much white magic do either of you know?" she said. She waited while they squirmed. "Exactly. That's what I thought. Ashe, you're barely recovered. I'm not losing you again. I won't."

A heavy silence fell. 

"OK," Ashe said. 

"Fine," Felix said. "Let's go then." 

He offered Sylvain a final nod, a pathetic token compared to all he owed the man, and they set off. Ingrid and Sylvain flew north, soon disappearing into the darkness. 

Felix led Ashe and Annette out of the town and into the quiet night. He chose a direction at random, not knowing where they were going, not knowing where they may end up. 

But, strangely, finally, _free_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** EDIT 2: There is now a [KNIGHT AND SQUIRE 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198629/chapters/50462273) if this amount of ridiculous angsty smut isn't enough for you, you insatiable fiends!
> 
> * EDIT: The response by all of you has been overwhelming. I'm literally - literally - shaking as I write this. I'm going to try for a sequel. Maybe even an AU. I'm, like, honestly trying not to cry. I promise I'll be back with more when I can. Thank you all so much. *
> 
> So, here we are. Free of this fic. What a fucking journey it has been. 
> 
> I want to thank every single damn one of you. Everyone who clicked on this. Everyone who left kudos. Everyone who inexplicably bookmarked this and made me think "holy shit, they're waiting on me?!?" 
> 
> And, most especially, everyone who comments. I see y'all. Especially y'all repeat commenters. I definitely remember and recognize those names. Every time I sat back and looked at my life and though "What the hell am I even doing?" it was you in particular who kept me going at this thing. 
> 
> It started with a one shot closet fuck because I thought that'd be pretty hot. Then this community just poured out the love and support. The moment I thought, "OK, but what if Felix DOES have a good reason for keeping this thing secret?" all hope was lost. Now we're here. And not only do our boys have some heavy feelings going on, so do I. This is just stupid smut, but it's truly been the most freeing writing experience of my life. I write professionally. Or I write "serious" fiction. I've never written anything like this. It's opened my eyes and my mind in the best possible way. Thank you all so much for encouraging me to keep going with my silly, silly, ridiculous project. I hope you found it worth your time. 
> 
> And, finally, a question. I leave it to you, my wonderful companions on this wild journey. 
> 
> Should this continue? 
> 
> I can see the faintest outline of a "Knight and Squire 2" where we let Ashe and Felix loose in Fodlan and follow their adventures. I have a few ideas, but it would take some serious outlining time before I could commit to them and start writing. 
> 
> Or is this where it should end? Is this the neat bow at the end? Are we fine here? 
> 
> I'm seriously asking because I'm totally torn. 
> 
> As always, you can comment here. Or you can interact with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purplebookcover). I also spend a lot of time in the [RarePair Discord Server](https://discord.gg/AG7p2u) with a lot of really wonderful and cool folks. 
> 
> And, of course, always, forever, for as long as I can type:
> 
> I respond to every comment. Thank you, friends!


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